Alaska
by ps3ud0nym
Summary: After breaking free from his meth-infused prison, Jesse finally gets the fresh start he desperately fought for. He journeys to the small town of Badger Hill, Alaska, where he meets a beautiful, paradoxical meth addict that is his salvation and his turmoil. But this small town is no safe haven. Secrets lie in every possible crevice. Rated M for language and sex. Post-Felina.
1. Prologue: Chapter 1

**Prologue/Chapter 1**

The box. It was beautiful. He made it himself. The wood gleamed. He had sanded and stained it with tung oil 'till it gleamed, motherfucker. This box was the best he could do. And it was beautiful, and his. It was-

The omniscient sound of the dusty tarp being thrown aside from his cage knocked Jesse out of his daydream. His eyes refocused, setting on the dirty cement he was sitting on. His ankles ached. They had tightened the chains around his ankles even more than usual. Jesse glanced up, wondering who had come to see him. Todd peared overhead. Jesse immediately looked down, too afraid to make eye contact.

"Hey, up here!"

God, he could just hear Todd's smirk.

Fuck.

"Uncle Jack wants you. 'Common now." Todd beckoned him over and slowly set a ladder down into Jesse's cell. "It's nothing bad, I promise."

Jesse made a grunt of disbelief in the back of his throat, but grabbed onto the ladder nonetheless. He had no choice. The chains on his ankles clanged against the metal ladder as he rose slowly, dreading whatever new torture Uncle Jack had in store for him.

"There ya go!" Todd said to himself as he unlocked the chains around Jesse's feet. He left the cuffs clinging to Jesse's wrists. Just in case. "Let's move." Todd was nice and all, on the outside. But he really was one sick fucker. In fact, the barrel of Todd's gun was prodding Jesse's back right now- to keep him in line on the way to see Uncle Jack.

Upon entering the room, Uncle Jack and his crew all turned abruptly to stare at him.

"You see what I'm talking about you son of bitch?" Uncle Jack seethed. "Does this look like a partner to you?"

Jesse stepped forward and then stopped abruptly when he saw him.

Mr. White.

Walter looked awful. His cheeks were sullen - a side effect of the cancer growing inside him. Mr. White had grown a terrible beard to try and hide his weakness. And he had grown his hair back as well. It looked thin and matted. Horrible. But, while Jesse appraised him, he realized that he probably didn't look much better.

"Commere, take a look!" Uncle Jack pushed Jesse forward roughly. "Commere!"

Mr. White eased forward. Slowly. Cautiously. Jesse could see both resentment and pity in his eyes. Jesse didn't want Mr. White's pity. He wanted to fucking murder him, right then and there. But he couldn't. His hands were cuffed and there were eyes and guns trailed on him. Watching him. Like they always do. So he did what he had been doing for the past several months and kept quiet.

"Take a look at him! Have a gander." Uncle Jack said. Jesse's eyes flicked up toward Mr. White. It all seemed like a dream. He had started to become accustomed to the routine of his life. Wake up, eat, shit, cook meth, sleep, cook meth, and sleep 'till it started all over again. But this… Jesse didn't know how to react.

"This is my partner. Right partner? Right buddy?" Uncle Jack mocked him, a cigarette burning blatantly between his lips. "Hard-working, good partner."

Jesse couldn't look at Mr. White anymore. So much pain was etched in every line of his former teacher's face. He was too weak to look. Too scared of facing his past demons and his current ones all at once. Uncle Jack was still rambling about some nonsense when Mr. White suddenly threw himself on top of him. All the air in Jesse's lungs seemed to burst and rush out of him in one sick wave. His head hit the cold, hard floor as Walt tousled with him on the ground, forcing him there. Is this some kind of sick joke? A little re-run of their past exploits and fights? Jesse struggled to get Mr. White off of him but he was practically helpless in his position.

Then bullets spewed in all directions. The sound of ricochets and solid metal exploding inside flesh pounded his ears. Mr. White's body covered him, crushing him. No, protecting him? Jesse turned away as a bullet whizzed by straight above his head, missing his skull by inches. The rain of bullets seemed to go on for hours as Jesse laid there, squeezed his eyes shut, and focused on breathing. Which was hard, considering Mr. White's body was crushing his ribcage.

Finally, the bullets stopped. The atmosphere settled into beautiful silence. Mr. White rolled off of Jesse, who could finally gulp in a huge breath of air. Sweet, sweet relief. Jesse quickly ran his hands over his body, checking for any damage. He was unscathed. Alive.

And so was that fucker Todd. That piece of shit crawled over to the window and peered out. He saw a machine gun strapped to a garage door mechanism. The source of all the bullets was in the trunk of Mr. White's car. Jesse slowly rose from his place on the ground, staring at Todd's exposed back.

Todd continued to look out the window, puzzled. "Mr. White…"

But Todd wasn't able to utter the rest of his sentence with Jesse's handcuffs around his neck. Todd panicked immediately, throwing Jesse backward. But his hold on Todd's neck did not cease. Todd was really frantic know, and threw himself into Jesse, flinging both him and Jesse backward onto a table. This only made Jesse pull harder on Todd's neck. They both crashed to the ground in a rage of legs and arms and chains. Todd's fingers pawed at Jesse's hands, begging him not to end his life as strangled gurgles escaped from his throat. Jesse continued his hold on him, blocking off any air from Todd's lungs.

Jesse could feel Mr. White's shadow looming overhead. Watching. Jesse refocused back on Todd. He would kill this sadistic bastard and finally break free from this place. The gurgles from Todd's throat soon grew few and far between. Then Jesse heard a snap, and Todd's limbs grew limp on top of him. Jesse shuffled out from under the body and searched Todd's pockets for keys. He found them, and quickly unlocked himself from his chains.

Jesse peered up, his eyes landing on Mr. White, holding a gun and hovering over Uncle Jack, who was still miraculously breathing.

"Wait, wait!" Uncle Jack begs. His chest rises and falls heavily, but he still manages to pick up a cigarette and smoke it between his teeth. The smoke swirls around in the air as Uncle Jack continues to speak. "You want your money back, huh? You wanna know where it is? You pull that trigger and you'll never-"

A shot is fired. The echo pounded in Jesse's ears. He quickly clambered up from the ground and turned to face Mr. White, who was now spattered lightly with Uncle Jack's blood. A silence festered between them. Then, his teacher slowly eased down and dropped the gun, sliding it toward him. Unsure of Mr. White's intentions, Jesse grabbed the gun and pointed it directly at Mr. White's empty heart.

"Do it."

Tears pooled in Jesse's eyes but they did not fall. His finger caressed the cold trigger of the gun. He wanted this. He wanted it so badly, to see Mr. White's brains splattered on the wall. He wasn't the man he used to be-no, not for a long time. He wasn't looking at Mr. White. He was locking eyes with Heisenberg.

Heisenberg gives him a little nod. "You want this."

"Say the words!" Jesse exclaims. The trigger would feel so sweet and complete if he pulled it just a little bit tighter. "Say you want this! Nothing happens until I hear you say it."

A pause. Then Heisenberg spoke. "I want this."

Jesse thought he was dreaming. Heisenberg wanted to die. Heisenberg wanted to die. He couldn't take it anymore. He glanced down, noticing the red blotch of blood soaking Heisenberg's shirt. Jesse wanted to kill him. He wanted to see a bullet enter that man's brain but he just couldn't pull the trigger. This man had taken a bullet for him. For Jesse Pinkman- the meth addict, the drug dealer, the slave. The gun quivered in his shaking hand. He couldn't shoot the man- but he could condemn him. He threw the gun down, where it clattered on the blood-soaked cement.

"Then do it yourself."

Jesse left the building and walked out toward the first car he saw. He could hear Mr. White mumbling in the background, talking on the phone. He briefly heard something about ryson in Lydia's Stuvia but shrugged it off. He didn't care. He just wanted to leave. But something pulled him toward Mr. White yet again. He turned, and came face to face with Mr. White's silhouette in the distance. There was a pause, and the silence stretched on. Mr. White gave Jesse a small, respectful nod.

Jesse was glad that the last memory he had of Mr. White wasn't a bloody one, as much as he hated what his teacher had become. He finally broke eye contact and slipped into the front seat of the car. The keys were sitting in the passenger seat. No one around here bothered to keep them hidden. He started the car and drove the fuck away from his prison. He hit the gas pedal hard, lurching forward and setting the speed dial up towards a hundred miles per hour, leaving Mr. White and all the torture that went along with him behind. He smashed through the prison's gates, the ones he so desperately tried to escape from many months ago. But now, no chains held him back.

He was free.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Jesse's elated shouts vibrated against the car with their intensity. He was free, bitch! He drove as fast as he could back into town, leaving all his troubles behind him. His body was telling him to eat and rest, but all he could think about was Brock. Jesse needed to make sure he was doing okay without his mother around to take care of him. Pain pricked in his heart as he cringed at the memory of Todd shooting a bullet through Andrea's head. Her petite body slumping onto the cold cement of the sidewalk. Lifeless. He rubbed his tired, red eyes to will the memory away. He drove faster, chasing the peeking rays of dawn.

Once he finally arrived outside of Brock's house, the full sunrise had just started to settle on the horizon. Subdued hues of purple, pink, and orange flooded the city of Albuquerque, turning drabby two-bedroom houses into works of art even Georgia O'Keefe would be proud of. Jesse smiled at the memory of Jane's favorite artist, and the time they spent at the museum looking at goddamn vagina paintings. God, he wished that she was here to see all the colors. It would have taken her breath away. Jesse sighed and got out of the vehicle, letting it idle on the curb has he jogged across the street to Andrea's house. He didn't know exactly what he would find. Hell, he didn't even know if Brock still lived here, but he had to try. He couldn't leave without trying.

Jesse scampered up the cement steps and knocked on the door hard, three times, and then rang the doorbell twice for good measure.

Silence. Jesse waited thirty seconds and then knocked again, harder this time. Nothing. He waited a few minutes and knocked again. It was at that moment that Jesse turned and saw a "For Sale" sign stuck in the lawn. Andrea's family must have taken Brock in and moved on with their lives. Jesse sighed. He should have suspected that Brock wouldn't be here. But at least he tried. All he could do now was hope that Brock was safe, and in a better place, where nobody could hurt him, or shoot him, or poison him.

Jesse rushed back to the car, suddenly paranoid about being seen. He realized that even though he helped ASAC Schrader "capture" the infamous Heisenberg, there would most likely be a bounty on his head, from both the DEA and whoever could be running the meth empire now. He raced down the street and was trying to think of someplace safe to crash for a few hours when his stomach rumbled.

Todd had fed him pretty well during his imprisonment at Uncle Jack's, he even got ice cream on occasion, but he certainly didn't receive prime food for every meal. Jesse had become very thin, his gray long-sleeve shirt hung like a tent across his shoulders, and he had to hoist his pants up with a tight belt. And his stomach growled again. Jesse sighed. He didn't have any money to his name. Jesse started to search the car, checking the back seat and the passenger side for cash. Nothing. He pulled into the first restaurant that he laid eyes on. In & Out Burger. And they were open 24/7. Holy fuck. Yes. He drove into the parking lot of the restaurant as he saw an older man walk out. Jesse got out of the car and walked casually over to the man.

"Hey...uh…can you spot me a few bucks?" asked Jesse as he slowly began to remember the night he tossed millions of dollars out of his car like trash. He felt like an idiot. A dirty, starving idiot.

The man eyed his own bag of food, pondering Jesse's question. He remembered his college days, back when he was young and hungry, too. He sighed, and dug into his pocket. "Yeah, here's five dollars and an extra five to get yourself cleaned up."

"Thanks," Jesse's voice staggered as he took the money and nodded his thanks to the kind stranger. Jesse walked into the restaurant. Nothing but a grubby linoleum floor and a single cashier greeted him. The cashier was a young teenager with pimples and greasy hair, but Jesse could still see the fear in his eyes. Jesse couldn't blame him. He knew that he probably looked like a homeless serial killer, with dirt matted into the new scars on his face and hunger in his eyes. He walked up to the counter.

"Give me anything I can buy with this." Jesse threw his two five dollar bills at the cashier, and ordered as much food as his ten dollars allowed. Screw cleaning himself up. He needed some food, goddammit. Once he got his order, Jesse parked deep into In & Out's parking lot and devoured the burgers. Jesse couldn't help moaning when he finished. He forgot how much he loved burgers. And they tasted like freedom, bitch.

Jesse was lazily sipping from his straw, watching the rays of sun grow brighter against the spotless blue sky when his eyelids slowly drooped. He fell asleep instantly.

_He is in a room. A dusty, drafty room with a cement floor. His arms and legs are chained together. The man lays on a mattress, wearing a pure white t-shirt and pristine, clean white pants. No shoes. His head is shaved, his beard gone. He feels both exposed and alone. He's scared. About to call out for help, he realizes that his voice has left him. He cannot utter a word._

_"Jesse?" Brock slips out from the shadows, approaching him. The little boy is also dressed in an all-white ensemble. Jesse smiles. He tries to get up to greet the boy, but the chains hold him back. He frowns. He still cannot speak._

_"I need help. My stomach hurts. Why are you here?"_

_Jesse doesn't know the answer to that. But he's alarmed. Brock is in trouble, he's in pain. Jesse fights the chains, but they are too strong._

_Then Brock starts to scream. "Ah! It hurts…. Jesse! Help me!"_

_Jesse opens his mouth to yell for help but still, nothing but forced air escapes his throat. He fights against the chains hard, but to no avail. Suddenly Brock collapses, slamming down hard onto the cold floor, clutching his stomach and screaming. Jesse couldn't breathe. He could barely think._

_Then he saw her. She was elegantly clothed in a thin white nightdress. Her skin was alabaster pale and shone like a diamond. Her jet black hair contrasted so beautifully. Those thick, dark red lips of hers curled into a smile. She eased out of the shadows, hovering over Brock's writhing body._

_"Tsk, tsk, Jesse." Jane mocks. "You shouldn't have gotten involved with that pathetic teacher of yours. Nothing bad would have happened to those you loved." And with that, Jane started choking right in front of him. One moment she was smiling and beautiful, and then the next she couldn't breathe. Vomit poured out of those lips that he loved, and her eyes grew wide with fear. Her hands clutch at her throat, begging for air. Jane manages to speak through gargled gasps. "You did this to me." She collapses, and loses consciousness within minutes._

_This throws Jesse over the edge. He breaks the chains around him and sprints over to Jane. She is dead. Her lifeless eyes stare back at him with a haunting image that is all too real. He hurriedly rushes over to Brock, who was still clutching his stomach and crying._

_"You killed my mommy, Jesse," the boy whispers. "And now you've killed me too."_

_"No, please," Jesse begs, his vocal cords finally doing their job. "I didn't want this. I never wanted this happen…"_

_Brock reaches over and places a small hand over his mouth. Jesse stills, silent as the grave. The little boy no longer seems to be in pain. He stands up smoothly, calmly, still keeping a hand over Jesse's mouth. Brock's voice becomes deep, and gravelly, a voice Jesse knew all too well from the multiple scolds he received from it. "Apply yourself, Jesse."_

_Mr. White was speaking to him through Brock. Jesse fought back a scream. He couldn't do this. It was too much. Too much to bear. He throws Brock's hand off and yells, "I can't do this anymore, Brock. Mr. White haunts me everywhere I go. I want to die."_

_Brock smiles. His lips go far too wide for a child's grin. He has too many teeth. Jesse can't bear to look at him. Brock arm extends behind him and pulls out a black handgun. He reaches over and grabs Jesse's hand and places it into his open palm._

_"Then do it yourself."_

Jesse abruptly awoke with a thin sheen of sweat covering his body hours later. He rubbed his eyes frantically to get rid of the dream still lingering behind his eyes. He could not get Brock's malicious smile out of his mind.

"Oh, _Christ_," Jesse murmured under his breath. He glanced up, and looked about him, half expecting to be laying down in Uncle Jack's prison, until he realized that Mr. White had actually saved him from that hell last night. He looked out the window, and activity bubbled all around. Cars came and went in record speed, signaling rush hour. Noon. The aroma of sizzling burgers grew even more intense than before. Jesse subconsciously rubbed his wrists where his handcuffs used to be, and was slightly surprised by his fingers touching nothing but rough skin. No metal. He smiled, realizing that he was finally -truly- free.

Jesse's life had opened up to whatever he wished it to be. Nobody could hold him back. He knew what he had to do: get the hell out of this meth-infused hell hole.

Jesse's eyes grew wide at the sight of his parent's house. Well, his house, technically. But it was his parent's house. The expensive Spanish stucco was splattered with dark graffiti. And not the artistic kind, either. Cheap black signatures defiled his walls. And that was just the outside. Jesse took a deep breath, and exited the car. He had parked a block away, just in case the DEA was still snooping around, which was unlikely, but Jesse learned that one can never be too cautious. He learned that the hard way. Mike. He hoped to God that Mike made it out alive. He needed to know that Mike was going to be able to take care of his granddaughter like he always wanted. Jesse sighed, and walked into his house easily, since the door seemed to have already been broken into and was leaning on its side against the frame. He seamlessly exited the outside world and into the space of his home. His ragged, dirty appearance blended in with the unkempt walls, smashed lights, and an empty area where his sound system had been. Glass was all over the floors causing Jesse to become just a little more cautious where he placed a step. Jesse first noticed that his futon had obviously been used by multiple people. Dark burns covered the whole futon as if these bum-fucks had never held a lighter before. Jesse sat down on his overly used futon to relax. His eyes became heavy as the world around him slowly drifted away for a fleeting moment...

_Jane's voice appears in the distance._

_"Jesse, I'm your partner now."_

Jesse broke from his reverie with a jolt, clenching his fists. A strange sound lurked from upstairs - in his room. As he quickly gets up, he noticed his coffee table first. It was covered with used cigarrette buts and beer bottles, and distributed, disgusting cockroaches crawling all over the grubby glass top, eating the molded crumbs of whatever was left over. The sound from upstairs persisted. Jesse began to turn toward his stairs when he noticed it; laying right in the middle of his floor. It couldn't be… blue. Jesse's heart began to race. Fucking blue. "Please God, get me out of this nightmare," was the only thought running through his head. A loud bang came from upstairs as if a shot was fired. Jesse ran upstairs avoiding the amount of junk smothering the floors. Jesse walked slowly to the opening of his room. There were two men, both looking as ragged as Jesse, with matted hair and dirty faces. One lied on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. It took Jesse a few seconds to notice the blood oozing from the mouth and chest of the one on the bed. He was dead, but Jesse was already accustomed to this kind of tragedy. He didn't care. Not anymore. The other man was on the floor with his back turned, shuffling blood-stained wads of cash into a torn up pillowcase. Jesse took one step forward, causing the floor to creak. He cursed under his breath. The one squeaky floorboard in the whole damn house and he had to step on it. The other man swirled around abruptly to face Jesse. The man's right hand jolted up holding a very rusted revolver.

"Hey! Don't fucking move. I'll fucking shoot you like I did with him!" the man squealed as he slowly bent down to pick up the lumpy pillowcase while still training the gun's barrel on Jesse.

"Yo, It's cool. It's cool." Jesse said slowly, easing his hands above his head.

"I knew him." The man said raspily as he waved the gun towards the other man on the bed. "He was my fucking partner, and look what happened... He's dead. I don't even fucking know you. So what does that make you?" The man said with confidence as he slowly began to walk towards Jesse as the gun shook in his hand.

Jesse didn't speak.

"Now look at here. I'm going to take this money, and walk out. Don't try anything stupid. You don't need to get involved." The man said as he brought up his right hand. The fucking tweaker lifted his scabby hand, holding the gun up to scratch his infected neck. The barrel of the gun laid on the man's own head as he did so, without taking his finger off the trigger. The gun went off, sending a jolt coursing through Jesse's body. The man fell to the floor, dropping the pillowcase. Blood and brains covered the opposing wall. Jesse took one look around and reached down to pick up the lumpy pillowcase. Jesse opened it without examining inside, and picked up the gun and placed it on top of the cash.

He walked out without looking back.

Upon leaving the house, Jesse realized that he was _still_ _driving_ Todd's _fucking_ car. He needed a new source of transportation. And a shower. Jesse drove to the nearest department store and bought some clothes - plain jeans and a t-shirt, sweater, and thick jacket. When did he get so practical? Jesse remembered the days of bag gy pants and South Pole sweatshirts. It seemed like forever ago.

Jesse made sure that he paid with the cash without the splattered blood stains, and then made his way to the nearest shitty motel, and got a room under a different name. The older lady behind the counter practically threw the room keys at him so she didn't have to touch him. Jesse nodded his thanks and headed into the room. He stripped immediately and hopped into the shower, relishing in the hot steamy water. He washed everything twice, for good measure. After, he approached the cracked mirror above the sink. Jesse stared at his own face for the first time since his imprisonment. The skin pulled over his skull carried scars he hadn't seen before. A thin scar was dipped just under his right eye, going down two inches. Another thin one, about half an inch, graced the bridge of his nose. His last scar went from the middle of his right cheek to his lips. Jesse sighed, and pawed at his scars, willing them to go away. He saw a little too much of Walter White in the lines of his face. Jesse turned away from mirror, disgusted with himself. He didn't want to carry the past on his face, but Jesse didn't have much of a choice, he was kind of stuck with it. Crashing on the bed, Jesse slept for hours. His sleep was tired, and deep. No nightmares of Brock or Jane interrupted him this time.

Jesse slept through the rest of the day and night. He woke up around nine a.m. the following morning, determined to leave Alburquerque for good. Jesse paid the lady at the counter and left, driving to the nearest car dealership. He didn't know how much money was in the pillowcase, but by the weight of it, Jesse guessed that it was at least one hundred thousand dollars. A small haul, by his prior standards, but just enough money to get out of here and leave comfortably.

When Jesse entered the dealership, one of the car connoisseurs was all over him like a fly on rotten fruit. The guy was short and stout, with big glasses that made his eyes bulge out like an owl.

"What can I do for you, young man?" the man said while cleaning off his glasses.

"I, uh, am looking for a car to take me far away." Jesse said while taking a quick look around.

"Well you've come to the right place!" said the man with a large, toothy smile on his face. Jesse shivered slilghtly at the sight. It reminded him of his nightmare about Brock… and Jane.

"Let's take a look around...wait, do I know you?" the man asked, squinting his eyes, still ever-large in his thick framed glasses.

"I, uh…" Jesse stammered under his breath. Jesse glanced to the left, noticing a news broadcast playing on a small 18" TV. Avoiding the dealer for a second, Jesse focused all of his attention on the television screen. A lady in a sharp gray pantsuit was talking animatedly about what they were calling "The Fall of Heisenberg."

_The Drug Enforcement Agency of Alburquerque, New Mexico have confirmed this morning of the death of the drug lord Walter White, also known as Heisenberg. After shots were reported on a private property about twenty miles outside of town, police were sent to the scene to investigate. The police arrived and found more than a half dozen bodies in a nearby building, all killed by gunshot wounds, except for one victim, who was supposedly strangled. Walter White was found in a separate building yards away, with a gunshot wound to the abdomen, which sufficiently killed him. Also, Jesse Pinkman, a missing person of more than four months, and known conspirator of Heisenberg, was also at the scene. His fingerprints were found all over the meth lab located underground. Pinkman was not found on the scene. The DEA has set out a warrant for Jesse Pinkman's arrest._

A picture of one of Jesse's mug shots popped up on the screen in clear detail.

_If you see this man, do not approach him. He could be armed and dangerous. Please call 911 or the DEA's office. Their number is located below. There will be more to report as the details come through. I'm Amanda Lange, from Albuquerque News._

The news cuts out to a commercial break, but the salesman has seen enough.

"I knew it was you…" the man swallowed hard and appraised Jesse, giving him the up-down. Sweat beaded on his forehead.

"Look, man. I don't have time for this bullshit." Jesse cursed under his breath.

"I… I'm calling the authorities!" the salesman started to move away. Jesse sighed, and threw the bag of cash over to the man's feet. Wads of cashed gushed out of the bag and rolled onto the dirty gravel. The salesman's eyes grew even wider when Jesse said that he wanted to pay in cash. The salesman eyed the money, then Jesse, and then the money again, trying to choose between doing the right thing, or doing the selfish, nontaxable thing. Greed wins. The salesman stooped down and picked up the pillowcase before handing it back to Jesse.

"And what will be your model of choice, sir?"

Jesse picked out a practical black car that had great gas mileage and was all automatic and shit. Jesse bought it for about eighteen thousand and left Todd's car in the lot to be picked up by the junk yard.

That was it. Jesse had a new car, new clothes, and a heavy bundle of cash in the passenger seat. He could go anywhere he wanted. A single word kept repeating over and over in his mind. It wouldn't let him go. Jesse clenched the wheel and sped out of the Albuquerque city lines. He knew where he needed to go.

Alaska.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The sun chased Jesse down the north west road. Jesse's fingers clenched the steering wheel of his new 2011 Chevy Monte Carlo. So, Walter White was dead. Jesse could barely comprehend that information. His Chemistry teacher, whom he had known for years at his high school, and then almost two years as a meth-crazed maniac, was finally dead. Yet, no matter what, dead or alive, Jesse still believed that Heisenberg was out there, in some shape or form. That image of his intelligent blue eyes behind thick lens, eyes that looked at him with both respect and disdain, haunted Jesse.

Jesse drove all through the night, counting on Red Bull and Funyuns to keep him awake. Once the dawn broke through the horizon, Jesse was on the edge of Washington State. He pulled to the side of the road and slept for only a few hours before beginning his trek again. Around noon, Jesse arrived at a sleepy beach on the Pacific Ocean on the edge of Washington. He exited the car and headed for a run-down diner with a nice view of the ocean. He ordered steak and potatoes, and considered his options as the waves swelled and broke on the brown sand. Jesse could either risk going to Alaska by crossing the Canadian border, or take a long ferry ride straight across the Pacific. The later option seemed best. He was a wanted man now, surely his face would be plastered all over the news. He was glad that this diner didn't have a television, let alone a signal. The waitress there didn't seem to recognize him. In fact - she was hitting on him. Jesse rolled his eyes when she bent down particularly low to pick up his empty plate.

"Hey, do you have, like, a map or something?" Jesse asked the waitress.

"Sure, honey, be right back." She winked at him, and sashayed her hips on her way to a nearby counter. Jesse scoffed at her poor attempt to seduce him. The waitress returned and handed him a decade-old map with curled up corners and coffee stains.

"So where you headed to?" The waitress bend down over his shoulder to look at the map. Jesse turned to Alaska's page and furrowed his brows as he contemplated. Alaska was a vast state. He didn't want to move to a big city. He couldn't handle all the people. The fear of being watched by one of the many faces in the background. Jesse closed his eyes, and pointed to a random place on the map. When his lids opened, his eyes focused on the small italics print. Badger Hill. Jesse had to hold back a chuckle. He would subconsciously pick something that had to do with Badger, of all people…

"Badger Hill?" The waitress inquired, leaning over farther. "You're headed to that dinky little port town? What good is Badger Hill to you?"

"I'm getting a fresh start," Jesse said blatantly, mostly to himself. Then he glanced up at waitress. "Check please."

The waitress nodded glumly and handed him the bill. He paid with the cash, of course, and gave her a hefty tip just because she had a great ass. Jesse tore the page out of the map and stuffed it into his coat pocket. He left the diner and entered his car. He drove fast, speeding with a new purpose. Jesse followed road signs to ferry, where he paid two hundred dollars for a straight and narrow ride across the Pacific to the port of Badger Hill.

The ferry ride passed without much discord. When Jesse's feet first landed on Badger Hill's creaky dock, he breathed in the fresh Alaskan air deeply into his lungs. The new oxygen revitalized him. He almost felt like a new being. Yes, this would be perfect. A dinky little town in the middle of nowhere would suit him just fine. When he spotted a gas station directly across the dock, he mosied over there to purchase a pack of cigarettes while the ferry workers unloaded his car. He hadn't had one since being imprisoned, and his craving was high.

Jesse puffed on his first cigarette in months while his Monte Carlo was deposited onto a nearby road.

"Thanks man," Jesse handed the each of the workers a fifty. Back in his prime, when Jesse was making millions, he would have given them both five thousand. But now, money was a little tight. Jesse needed it to buy a house and begin his new life. Which reminded him of his next step. House hunting. The day had just begun, with the sun barely peeking a hands width over the horizon. The soft yellow rays beautifully encompassed the pungent pine trees and silver ocean guarding the coastline. Jesse deftly lit another cigarette as he entered his Monte Carlo and revved the engine. He felt new and empowered. All of his past demons were now behind him.

As Jesse drove through the streets of Badger Hill, he realized that the town was actually quaint and lively. The townspeople were composed mostly of indigenous Alaskan descent, with a few Irish redheads and the occasional European immigrant descendant roaming the streets. Small shops sprinkled the streets. Almost all of them were owned by one name: O'Keefe. O'Keefe's Grocery, O'Keefe's pharmaceuticals, O'Keefe's flower parlor, and so on. Jesse scoffed at the monopoly here. Whoever owned these shops probably owned half the town itself. The town of Badger Hill was quite empty of vehicles. The townspeople only walked, but when they couldn't, they biked. Driving around town caused Jesse to feel quite strange. Jesse found a small parking lot with nothing but an old Chevy occupying a parking space. He parked his car in the spot next to the Chevy, pulled his keys out of the ignition, and stepped out. Before Jesse moved any further, he examined the small town of Badger Hill. Everyone had a smile on their face. Everyone greeted anyone who walked by and exchanged laughs, compliments and the same stories passed down through generations. Everyone knew everyone. It was safe. It was perfect. It was home. Jesse looked down at his keys dangling in his hand, and turned around putting the keys on top of the visor in his car. Nobody around here would steal it, that he was for certain. Now, it was the townspeople's car. Just the thought made Jesse finally feel at home.

He walked down the asphalt street, eying the various buildings, most of which were owned by O'Keefe. Jane's favorite artist. Every beautiful italic letter was like a stab in the chest. People passed by him, curiousness etched onto their faces. He was the new kid in town. Fuck, people were going to stare. Shit. Jesse hoped that none of them had watched the news recently and seen his mugshot. Then again, his face had new scars, new clothes, his hair was longer, and his eyes were different. Heavier, full of a certain knowledge that no happy person would care to possess. When one particular individual eyed him longer than necessary, Jesse suddenly became nervous and ducked into the first building he saw. He opened the door quickly and entered, a small tingling bell signaling his arrival. Jesse scanned the room as he tried to lower his breathing back to a regular pace. There were books everywhere - stacks upon stacks of them lined the walls and floor. Shelves choked every corner, filled with books both old and new. Their spines were like dull jewels glaring up at him. They seemed to be thrown every this way and that - haphazard. When Jesse moved in farther, the smell of old paper graced his nostrils. It was comforting. He absentmindedly trailed his fingertips across the spines of the multitudes of literature as he headed farther into the center. Jesse was starting to zone out, his eyes unfocused, as he walked. The floor suddenly creaked in front of him. Another person was here. He snapped back to reality, and his eyes focused on the most glorious ass he had ever seen. It looked just like Jane's. Not too big, but perfectly perky, with a nice gap between her legs to accentuate the curves of her thighs. Jesse gulped. Had she come back from the grave to haunt him with the memory of her beautiful body?

The ass he was staring at swiveled abruptly. He was still staring at her body- now a flat abdomen and supple shins and-

"Can I help you?" A smooth female voice asked.

Oh _shit._

"I-uh," He was still staring at her legs, dammit.

"Excuse me?"

Jesse's eyes finally shot up to the woman's face, and he was taken aback even more. She was Jane reincarnate, with clear porcelain skin, full lips, and large eyes. But her hair was bright blonde, the type that you couldn't tell was natural or dyed, and her eyes were a piercing shade of blue, not hazel.

"Sorry," Jesse stammered. "You just, uh, remind me of someone I knew."

"Oh yeah?" She cocked her hips to the side. "Who?"

"It doesn't matter," Jesse awkwardly scratched the back of his head and tried to look everywhere but at her face. His heart beat fast, trying to recover from stopping earlier at the sight of her. "I, uh, I better go…"

Jesse's feet started to move He wanted to bolt out of there as fast as he could, without question. But, the woman took a few steps closer to him, stopping Jesse in his tracks. "I haven't seen you around before," one of her eyebrows rose with questioning. "You just come into town?"

"Yeah," Jesse spoke carefully. Her tone was slightly apprehensive. She probably wasn't grateful for his eyes ogling her just moments before like some pervert. "I just moved here. Looking for a place to stay, actually…"

"So, naturally, you come to the nearest bookstore for real estate options?"

"No, it's uh, it's like…"

The woman rolled her eyes at him. "Luckily for you, I actually know a place that's available for rent. It's an apartment above an old store of my family's, just a few blocks down. Interested?"

"Totally." Jesse's eyes opened wide with surprise. He just got caught staring at this woman's lovely body and now she's offering him a place to stay? Badger Hill seemed like heaven on earth.

"Nobody has rented the place since last year. My mother would love to have somebody to add some life to the space… If you take it, then maybe I can forgive you for staring at my ass."

All the blood drained from Jesse's face. "Sorry, you just, like-"

"Remind you of someone?" She smiled and gave him a wink, causing Jesse to blush. "It's whatever. Want to see the apartment?"

"Yeah," Jesse nodded. "What's your name?"

"Clare. And you?"

"Je-Uh… Andrew. Andrew Clarke."

Andrew. Andrew fucking Clarke? What the fuck? Like seriously, _Andrew Clarke_? The name jumped around Jesse's head like a beachball at a Nickelback concert. Jesse reminisced on a documentary he watched on the shitty TV back at that hotel outside of Albuquerque. It was about some popular Australian actor, Andrew Clarke. Thank God that TV worked, or else Jesse knew he would have said his name was Muhammad or something.

"Nice to meet you, Andrew." Clare smiled while lifting her hand to shake his.

"Nice to meet you too, Clare." Jesse grabbed her hand and shook it softly.

"I can't close up shop for a few more hours, but you're welcome to stay and chat until then…?"

Jesse knew from her tone that it was more of a demand than an invitation.

"Yeah...I'd love to."

Jesse and Clare talked for a few hours while he watched her close. He could see bits of Jane in every move. Jesse instantly became obsessed with the small things about her. Her hands were baby soft, with fingers that intertwined like twigs when she wrung her hands. Her lips brightened into a lighter color of pink when she smiled. Her teeth were perfect rows of soft white. Her eyes radiated, ice cold, but not in a bad way. She had an aura of elegance and grace, with a glow of mischief that made him want to break all the rules with this girl. Jesse would try anything just to make her laugh. The harmonious sounds that came from her body was like a beautiful song that only played when Jesse executed a punchline. But, of course, her laugh turned him on like an 8th grader that got a hold on his father's porno mags.

People came and went with the twinkling of a bell. Some bought books, others checked them out with a library card. Clare stood behind the counter and helped her customers while Jesse wandered the bookshelves, trying to blend in. Being noticed as Jesse Pinkman and not Andrew fucking Clarke would mean the end of his life as a free man. After just barely escaping Uncle Jack's prison, Jesse could not imagine a fate worse than imprisonment. Even death.

"Andrew?" Clare peered over a corner to find Jesse sitting down on a footstool, silently reading (or at least trying to read) a book of poems by Sylvia Plath.

Jesse shut the book quickly and looked up at Clare. "Hey."

Clare scoffed at him but could not suppress a small laugh. "Hey yourself. Thanks for waiting."

"Sure. No problem, really." Jesse rose and cringed as he knees popped. How long had he been sitting there? He glanced up at a clock on the wall. It was five in the afternoon.

"Cool. Let the apartment renting begin, yeah?" Clare smiled and threw on a long black coat and white knit mittens. Jesse followed her out, zipping up his coat in the process. He watched her lock up the shop and then turned to follow her as she strode down the road in tall combat boots. Light snow crunched under their feet, a rhythm that calmed Jesse as he walked alongside Clare.

"So, Andrew, where are you from?"

"California," Jesse lied, trailing his eyes on his boots, scattering the snow, leaving streaks like blood on the sidewalk.

"California, wow," Clare tucked a strand of hair behind her ear absentmindedly. "What brings you to little 'ol Badger Hill?"

"Needed some fresh air."

Clare laughed, a clear ringing sound that caused Jesse's lips to curl up at the edges. She stopped then, in front a small building that was a part of development of conjoined stores, three stories high. The first level was old and abandoned. The front needed a lot of work, but Jesse could still make out the letter on the sign above the door: _O'Keefe Repairs_.

"Jesus, does this O'Keefe person own _everything_?" Jesse remarked as Clare walked up to the door. She unlocked it with her set of keys.

"Yeah, pretty much. O'Keefe practically made Badger Hill what it is today. Still not much, but much better than it was." Clare beckoned him inside. "But he's kind of fun on Christmas when he's gotten drunk on freaking eggnog."

"Wait, what?" Jesse furrowed his brows.

"Kent O'Keefe is my father," Clare walked across the room to a door located in the back. "This leads to the next two floors, all of which will be your apartment. If you choose to take it, of course."

"Wait, this O'Keefe dude is your dad? The guy that runs the whole town?"

Clare opened the door, urging Jesse on by waving him over. "Yeah, everybody here knows that. But you're new. It feels weird telling you. Anyway, the place has running water, shower, a decent bathtub, and a pretty good sized mattress in the bedroom. Queen, I think. Appliances in the kitchen are fairly new. Everything is a bit dusty though so it's gonna need some lovin' to get back into shape…"

Clare continued walking and talking. Jesse followed her, but he couldn't get the thought of Clare's father out of his mind. It was enough to be a wanted man, with pictures of his face all over the news, but now he's got himself mixed up with the owner of the goddamn town! Jesse looked over at Clare.

But damn, she had a great ass.

O'Keefe's daughter showed him the rest of the apartment. At the top of the stairs of the second floor, there was a front door made of solid pine. It opened into a decent sized foyer, which expanded into the living room and kitchen. A second set of stairs led to the bedroom, which had three big windows facing the street. Jesse peered out, watching the residents of Badger Hill stroll by without a care in the world. It really was a decent apartment.

"So?" Clare cocked her hip to the side. "You like?"

Jesse looked her up and down, smiling a bit at the double entendre he was about to commit. "Yeah, I really do. I'll take it."

"Awesome. I'll have my mom fill out all the papers and shit for you tomorrow. It's just three hundred a month, all amenities are included. Will you pay with debit or credit?"

"Cash, actually, if that's okay."

"You sure, Andrew?" Clare asked, puzzled.

"Oh yeah," Jesse gazed out of the window once more. Across the street, other shops bustled with activity, and more apartments were seated on top of them. Very quaint. Beyond that, Jesse could spot millions of dark pine trees. He could practically smell the sap from here. Farther back from the pines there lied soaring mountains, no doubt teaming with beautiful flora and fauna. Jesse finally felt at home.

"I'm sure."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

After a runthrough of all the amenities and details of the apartment, Clare left with a soft goodbye, promising to drop off the rental papers tomorrow afternoon. Jesse stayed back for a while, checking the appliances and making a mental note of what needed to be fixed or renovated. The kitchen was good, with nice ceramic tile floors and new white countertops. The fridge and stove were a bit outdated but Jesse liked the retro feel they carried. The living room had dark hardwood floors that creaked, but in a comforting, warm way. He made a mental note to buy some cleaning supplies, though. Everything really did have a layer of dust, like Clare said. Jesse made his way upstairs to the large bedroom, which covered most of the third floor, save for the master bathroom connected to it. He reached into his pocket and fondled the two wads of Benjamins settled there. He would have to go back to the Monte Carlo and retrieve the rest of the cash. The big bundle of blood-spotted cash. In the old pillowcase. Very suspicious. Ugh. Jesse would have to go back to the parking lot in the dead of night in order to pick up the rest of his money. For now, he simply stashed the two wads in the bedside table, only taking a couple hundred for a trip to the store.

Jesse found a hardware store easily enough. It was actually owned by some guy named Benny, and not Clare's father. He was a cool dude, offering him help on where to find all the tools he needed. Jesse bought all his supplies for a good deal and then returned to the apartment. He started to get to work- mopping the floors, cleaning the countertops, and dusting off the wood. He bought a new mattress, sheets, and comforter as well. They had been looking pretty run-down, and Jesse cringed at the thought of sleeping in another person's bed. By the time Jesse was finished, a clock in the kitchen struck midnight. Jesse wiped a layer of sweat from his brow and smiled to himself. He liked being able to put a hard day's work behind him. Before Walter White came into his life, Jesse shrugged off any chore he was given and never had the courage to do anything but make second-rate meth with fucking Chili P. Now, after the nightmare of Heisenberg, he was a new man. An adult.

He could thank Mr. White for that, at least.

With the cloak of midnight on his shoulders, Jesse was easily able to return to the parking lot unseen. The town settled down with the absence of the sun, like a small child obeying its mother when the lights go out. Badger Hill was quiet and serene as Jesse walked down the paved sidewalk toward the only large parking lot in town. Eventually, he spotted the Monte Carlo resting right where he left it. Jesse opened the door of the car, and was temporarily blinded by the flood of light from the car. He reached down to unlock the glove box and grabbed the pillowcase. Jesse closed the car door a little too hard, causing a noise to come from a nearby alley.

"Who the hell is that?" A gruff voice was heard from a distance. Shuffling sounds.

"I don't know, man." A woman's voice.

Jesse turned around abruptly, keys still in hand. He may have thought that Badger Hill was safe, but maybe it only seemed that way. Even the littlest towns have their secrets, after all. And one could never be too careful, especially in his position. Jesse tried to hide the cash in his coat, but the bundle was too big.

"Seriously, who is that? I haven't seen him around." The male voice said. "Common, Clare, let's bail."

Wait, wait?

Jesse moved toward the alley. He could barely make out two bodies huddled there. It was a scene that Jesse knew all too well. When he approached them, cash stuffed very obviously in his coat, his eyes opened wide when they landed on Clare's pristine porcelain face.

"Andrew?" Clare's voice was laced with surprise. Jesse could see the whites of her eyes grow wider. And she was hiding something behind her back. A big, Alaskan indigenous man towered over her as he stepped forward and approached him.

"Who's Andrew?"

"New kid in town." Clare said. Jesse could pick up a small quiver in her voice.

Jesse gulped. "Yeah, uh, I'm Andrew, nice to meet you." He held out his hand to shake the Alaskan man's, attempting to be Adult Jesse. His hand fell when the man did not return the gesture.

"What are you doing out here this late, Andrew?" Clare questioned, still nervous as hell. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two men. The burly Alaskan dude glared at Jesse, who glared right back.

"What, is that a crime?" Jesse asked, clutching the cash closer to his chest.

"No… but-"

"What did you get out of your fancy car there, little Andy?" The Alaskan man shoved Jesse slightly to point out the bundle he was carrying. "Doesn't look like fucking laundry."

"Leave him alone, Gray. He's my family's new tenant. He's cool."

"As if your family needs more money, Clare-"

"Please," Clare begged. Jesse furrowed his brows. Clare was defending him? Jesse hardly knew her. Well, they had a great day together earlier, but really?

"Fine," the Alaskan man looked Jesse up and down and clenched his fists. He gave Jesse one last up-down and turned away. "I'm leaving. See you later."

"Bye, Gray." Clare watched him stride down the street. He had a slight limp, which honestly only made him seem tougher because he was so huge. Gray had a very large build and stood over six and a half feet tall. His hair was long and dark, braided down his back. Jesse gulped slightly as he watched him leave.

"You know, I could have taken that guy for sure. Are you okay?" Jesse asked.

"Me? I'm fine. Gray is a friend." Clare shrugged her shoulders and leaned against the alley wall. Jesse slowly nodded while stuffing the pillow case further into his jacket. Her arm was still positioned behind her back, hiding something. But Jesse didn't have the guts to ask what it was.

"Okay. It's getting late. Goodnight, Clare." Jesse said while walking away, awkwardly trying to hide the cash in his coat.

"Night."

Jesse returned to his apartment quietly, not even thinking about what just happened. Jesse found a hiding space under his sink to put his bloody cash in and went straight to bed without a second thought.

The next morning followed the night smoothly, easing into a beautiful sunrise that caressed Jesse into that blissful moment between sleep and consciousness. His lids opened slowly, savoring every bit of waking up as a free man. A strange sound was coming from his apartment. Fuck, what if the DEA found him? Jesse bolted out of bed and headed downstairs to face the intruder. He did not dare to turn the corner. He peeked out and spotted a shadow moving around in the kitchen. Jesse took a deep breath, and clenched his fists. He burst into the kitchen to find-

Clare.

"What the hell?" Jesse pondered aloud.

Clare stood with her back to him, moving around pots and pans. "I'm guessing you don't have a spatula that you know of?" Clare opened drawer after drawer.

"Uh...I-" Jesse said with a confused look plastered on his face.

"I'm sorry for barging in, but I thought I could make you some breakfast as a welcoming gift to my town...Well, now our town. Oh, and for renting out the apartment." Clare bended down to look in the bottom drawers.

"Uh...Thanks." Jesse scratched his beard and began to stare at her bent-over ass absentmindedly. God.

"You're welcome." Clare said while still looking through countless drawers.

In that moment, Jesse remembered exactly where he stashed his money. Clare slowly began to search near the sink. Jesse quickly walked over and stood in front of the sink, rubbing the sleep from his eyes so as to not appear suspicious.

"So… what was going on last night?" Jesse asked while leaning backwards on the sink.

"I was just…you know, hanging out." Clare was still searching and easing her way near Jesse's spot by the sink.

"Is he, like, your boyfriend, or something?"

"No," Clare rose and stood to face him. "I said he was a friend, didn't I?"

For some odd reason, Jesse felt a nervous tremor quiver in her voice. He was getting odd vibes from this woman. Jesse narrowed his eyes at her slightly. "What's the real reason why you're digging around in my kitchen?" His eyes left her and trailed back toward the living room, where he could see drawers and parts of the sofa ajar. She had started to look there first. For the money. She knew.

"To make you an official "Welcome to Badger Hill" breakfast. Didn't I say that earlier?" Clare's eyes darted away from him. Jesse could spot the lie. So he did something drastic, and probably immensely stupid.

"You know about the money, don't you?" Jesse asked, stating his words clearly and slowly. He watched Clare gulp slightly, eyes darting away from him as she stated a meek: "No."

Jesse was finally starting to put the pieces together. Clare, hanging in an alleyway at midnight, holding something behind her back with a big surly guy with awful teeth. It was the type of scene he used to see almost every night back in Albuquerque. He knew.

"When did you start using?" Jesse asked.

All of the color drained from Clare's face. "I don't-"

"Stop with the bullshit. I know a junkie when I see one. I just can't believe I didn't notice it until now." He stared her down, causing her to sweat under his gaze. "You're skin is very pale, and you get a nervous twitch in your hands, sometimes. Your teeth are perfect though, so I'm guessing that you use a needle. Meth, right?"

"Please," Clare begged, "just don't tell my dad. He'll kill me. He doesn't know."

Jesse ran a hand through his hair and sighed. The fact that Clare was practically a mirror image of Jane made matters even worse. He remembered what happened the last time he was in this situation, and didn't tell a soul. Jane died. She died laying next to him when she could have been in rehab recovering.

"I don't know, Clare…" Jesse muttered. "I can't just let you do this to yourself."

"Why do you care, Andrew?" Clare glared at him.

"Because," Jesse shrugged, "you remind me of someone."

Clare sighed and crossed her arms. She looked down at the floor, anywhere but his face. Jesse saw both longing and pain etched into her features. She wanted a fix, probably needed it really badly but didn't have the personal funds to keep up with her addiction. He saw it then - her hands shook with withdrawals. She was sick.

"Didn't get your fix because of me last night, huh?" Jesse asked. "Sorry for interrupting. Did Gray start pushing you to use?"

Clare nodded slightly.

"I thought so." Jesse moved closer to her, about a foot away. They locked eyes. Jesse's breathing grew harder as he stared at her. She was just too damn beautiful to be trashed by hard drugs. Her lips parted slightly as he instinctually leaned in closer to her. When his lips were just inches away from hers, in that instant, Clare was Jane, and Andrew was Jesse. In that moment, Jane was alive and they were still together. Shit, what was he doing? Clare wasn't Jane. Jane was gone. And so was Andrea. There was no way that either of them were coming back. Jesse stopped, and turned to whisper in her ear.

"If I ever see you using again, your father is going to hear about it." Abruptly, Jesse stopped and stepped back, biting his lip. He couldn't believe he had almost kissed her. Hopefully she wouldn't notice his want for her. He couldn't risk falling in love again. Every woman he's ever been deeply involved with has ended up dead. Because of him.

"Okay," Clare said, her voice a faint whisper. "I understand."

"Good." Jesse appraised her from head to toe. She was wearing long sleeves to cover the needle marks that no doubt smothered her arms. Eyes bright with need. Her hands still shook with withdrawls. Jesse gained some courage and then spoke. "I know you were looking for my money to get a fix."

"So, I, um," Clare stammered, fiddling with her shirt sleeves. "I brought the papers you need to sign." She walked over to her purse she left by the door. Jesse couldn't believe it. She was totally avoiding the accusation. She waltzed over to him and handed him a few documents, which he took.

"Look," Clare cocked one hip to the side and appraised him. "I know you need this apartment. I also know that you've probably gotten into some illegal activities recently, what with the stacks of cash in the _pillowcase_ for Christ's sake."

Jesse grunted toward her but signed the papers with his fake name, regardless.

"So, if you pretend that you didn't see anything, then I'll pretend that the cash you're paying with is legal. I won't even do a background check on your name."

Shit. Jesse hadn't thought about that. If Clare did a check on Andrew fucking Clarke then she would realize that Andrew Clarke is an Australian actor, not him.

"Are you fucking blackmailing me?" Jesse seethed, the papers he held where crushed slightly between his fingertips.

"No," Clare grabbed the papers from his hands and stuffed them in her purse. "Just warning you. Tell my dad about our little confrontation last night, and you can say goodbye to your safe haven."

With that, Clare left the apartment, slamming the door on her way out. Now Jesse realized why he never wanted to work with anything drug related ever again. A few wrong words, and the people who stood by you as friends, end up being the enemies you never saw coming.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

With the echo of the slammed door pounding in his ears, Jesse leaned against the counter and contemplated, rubbing his face and sighing as he did so. His hands were tied. He knew that Clare was addicted to some kind of drug. And if his hunches were correct, he knew that she was addicted to meth. One wrong move, and she would wind up dead, covered in her own vomit, or worse. But he couldn't tell her father, because she would expose him, which he would mean the destruction of his safe haven. Jesse pounded the kitchen countertop with his fist and ran another hand through his hair. Clare just had to be a meth addict, didn't she? Out of all the girls in Alaska, he had to get involved with the junkie. The beautiful, funny, spirited junkie… but that was beside the point.

Jesse paced his new apartment as he worked out his next move. That Gray dude wouldn't be happy if Jesse told anybody, either. The guy would probably turn his face into a personal dart board if he so much as uttered a word. There was literally nothing he could do. A couple of days living a new life, and Jesse had to be in the middle of the same bullshit he left in Albuquerque. All Jesse could even think about doing was to leave it all behind him. Again. Jesse started packing up everything he needed. His clothes, his money, and goddammit he had to pack his Funyuns, too. Jesse stormed out of the apartment in a fury of bags and limbs. Jesse ran into a few residents walking along the sidewalk, but he completely ignored them, heading down the straight and narrow path. He was used to getting weird looks, anyway. After a few moments, Jesse reached the parking lot and approached his Monte Carlo. He threw everything that he was holding into the the trunk and shut it loudly. Just before opening the driver seat door, something stopped him cold. Jane. The thought of her pierced through Jesse's head with an echo of Mr. White's voice.

_I could have saved her. But I didn't._

Heisenberg didn't save Jane. But Jesse could save Clare. With that thought, Jesse turned around facing the opposing street and collapsed backwards with the side of the car catching him. Fuck. Mr. White's voice was crushing him from the inside out. Jesse slowly slid down the car, eventually sitting on the ground with his back relaxed on the driver's side door. No matter where he went, Heisenberg was going to haunt him. Jesse wondered if he would see Heisenberg even after his inevitable death. He banged his head on the car door with frustration. He had nobody to talk to. Nobody he could connect with. He was trapped in a paradoxical dome of heaven and hell. Badger Hill was his safe haven, his new home. But how could he live here knowing that Clare was slowly killing herself?

Absentmindedly, Jesse's eyes started to dart around his surroundings, looking for an answer written in the clouds. Across the street, O'Keefe's Grocery stood with two, full glass windows covering the front entrance. Inside, Jesse spotted Clare. Of course. She was having a conversation with another resident. She looked so perfect, wearing a navy blue dress with gray leggings that hugged her calves. Her black coat covered her arms, so as not to reveal the track marks she carried like scars. Jesse became obsessed once more with the little things she did. Minutes went by and all he could do was watch her from his pathetic spot on the pavement. Ever since Jesse met Mr. White, everyone he loved either left him or died. Jesse had nothing, he had no one. But Clare...she was a new start and he knew that. Methamphetamine dragged Jesse through a hell he wouldn't want his his worst enemy to endure, and he wasn't planning on having methamphetamine drag Clare down like it did with him. She was too good for an empty life. Jesse got up and walked across the street with a new perseverance. He opened the door to find Clare laughing at whatever the other person told her. Her laugh was addicting. He took a deep breath and approached her.

"Clare," Jesse said quietly enough so only she could hear him.

"Andrew... What do you want?" Clare asked in a calming, yet cautious tone.

"Bacon and eggs...Can I still take you up on that Badger Hill Breakfast offer?" Jesse asked with a slight grin across his face. Clare smiled. It was obvious that her moment of anger toward him had passed. He hadn't told a soul about her drug use. She trusted him more now. He knew her secret, and she had an inkling of what his was. They could rely on each other in a way neither of them had experienced before. "Come on," Jesse said, reaching out to grab her small, soft hand. Their fingers intertwined perfectly. "My place?"

Clare nodded and said a quick goodbye to the cashier she had been talking to. The cashier seemed slightly surprised by this encounter with the new Badger Hill citizen, but the large smile plastered on the old woman's face hinted that she approved. The woman nodded her goodbye to the pair. Jesse led Clare out of the store, hands still tangled together.

"I knew you weren't going to tell," Clare said with a smile gracing her lips.

"How could I? Especially since you blackmailed me." Jesse joked with her. She gripped his hand tighter.

"I'm really sorry about that," she said with a wink. They walked in silence for a few moments, both watching their feet hit the pavement in harmony, before Clare spoke again. "I'm glad you moved here." She maneuvered over a sheet of ice, which caused her to lean in closer to him. Instead of retreating, she kept walking side by side with him, causing Jesse to smile. "I haven't met anybody that would keep my secret like you did. Besides Gray, I mean."

Jesse's smile fell at the mention of her drug dealer. "Yeah, about that…"

"What?" One of Clare's eyebrows rose with questioning.

"Just because I didn't tell your father about your addiction doesn't mean that I accept it."

"Oh," Clare's smile dropped. "But I thought-"

"What?" Jesse stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, a sudden bubble of anger welling up inside of him. "You thought that if you blackmailed me, I wouldn't feel conflicted about this? That I'd just keep living my life, watching you become more like a zombie day by day? I've seen that shit before, Clare. That's not happening again. Especially to someone so beautiful."

Clare ripped her hand out from Jesse's. "You don't understand, Andrew. I need it."

"You think I don't fucking understand?" Jesse's voice rose with anger. A few passersby on the street stopped to stare at them. Shit. Jesse took her hand again forcefully and dragged her the last few feet to the apartment's building. He opened the door and forced her inside. He slammed the door shut. Clare panicked and fell back onto the door, her back pressed up against the dark wood. Jesse stood closely in front of her.

Now that they were alone, Jesse's allowed himself to speak his mind. "I understand perfectly, Clare." He leaned in closer to her. "I was one of you, once. Living my life not from day to day, but from fix to fix. I wasn't alive until I smoked meth. I did some very greedy, unspeakable things to get it, things you couldn't imagine."

Clare's eyes grew wide. Her lip quivered. "But I'm not like you. I'm fine, I just-"

"I knew a girl," Jesse cut her off. "Her name was Jane, and I loved her with all I had. You look just like her. Exactly fucking like her. So please, in the name of God, do not make me go through this shit again-"

Suddenly, Clare reached up and wrapped Jesse in an embrace. Jesse was taken aback by her sudden act of kindness. His hands stood still at his sides for a moment before they finally reached up and wrapped around her shoulders. He placed his head on top of hers. For a split second, he wondered if he should be doing this. Didn't all of the women he was romantically involved with end up dead?

"I'm sorry," Clare whispered into his shoulder.

"For what? Not your fault she died."

"People can be sorry just for sorry's sake, you know." Clare let go of him. Her cheeks were blushing, goddammit. If he looked close, Jesse could see tears welled up in her ice blue eyes, but she blinked them away quickly.

He reached out and touched her shoulder. He didn't have to get too involved. They could just be friends. Totally platonic. Alburquerque was behind him, so Jesse figured that being friends was safe enough without having Clare be threatened by his curse. "Please tell me that you'll stop using? Or at least try?"

Clare stood still for a moment, staring at the floor. When she did finally look up at him, she gave him a small nod. Jesse sighed with relief. That would have to do. For now.

"Alright," Jesse chuckled slightly, trying to lighten the mood, "now that we've got all of that taken care of, is it time for my official Badger Hill Breakfast?"

"My speciality, Mr. Clarke." She said, her tone monotonous and somber. She pushed past him, wiping the spare tears from her eyes as she did so. She walked up the apartment steps without saying a word.

Jesse followed her without question.

When he reached the top of the stairs, Clare was leaning against the kitchen counter, still wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. She had shed her coat on the way up, revealing the multiple track marks smothering her arms. Many of them were old, leaving scars, but a few of them were purple, bruised and new. One of her hands trailed up and down her arm, feeling the needle marks. Her fingertips shook.

"Uh, Clare?"

"Yeah?" She said without looking up.

He approached her, and ran his hands up and down her shoulders to comfort her. "It's going to be okay. I know how hard it is to quit, but I'll be here for you, I promise."

"Why are you doing this?" Clare glared up at him. "Just because I look like your dead girlfriend?"

Jesse flinched at that comment, but recovered quickly. "No," he stepped closer to her. "I have my reasons." He inched closer to her, eyes still locked. She bit her lip. Christ. His breathing quickened at the sight. Jane used to do that sometimes.

"You feel it too?" she asked.

Jesse threw all of his better judgement away and grabbed her head, crashing his lips to hers. She fell back onto the counter from the force. His hands were everywhere as he kissed her, gliding down her slim waist and hips. She gasped into his mouth when Jesse slid his hands under her thighs and pushed her up fully onto the counter. She fought back, wrapping her legs around his waist as they continued to kiss passionately. She opened her mouth slightly, allowing Jesse's tongue to slide in and caress hers. One of Jesse's hands fastened at the small of her back, bringing her even closer, as the other wound into the bright locks of her hair, pulling at the loose strands.

Clare pulled away for air, but Jesse wasn't going to stop. He started sucking on her neck, leaving tiny marks as he trailed down her porcelain skin.

"Andrew-wait…" Clare whispered in between breaths. He stopped his motions immediately. He pulled back to look at her. She bit her lip. A pause. "Bedroom?"

Jesse nodded, and grabbed her hand, leading her upstairs. She followed him enthusiastically. They couldn't get up those damn stairs fast enough. Jesse slammed the door closed with his foot when they entered. Clare pushed Jesse back onto the closed door. Hands and lips everywhere. Those gorgeous lips. Suddenly, Jesse's jacket was strewn onto the floor, along with his sweater and t-shirt. She was fast. Jesse lowered his eyes to her, his irises dark with desire. He retaliated by unzipping her coat and throwing it across the room. His hands reached down to the hem of her navy blue dress, going under and sliding up her silky smooth thighs. Jesse kissed her as he moved them forward toward the bed. When Clare hit the frame of the bed with the backs of her legs, Jesse gently pushed her down onto the mattress.

Clare broke from the kiss in order to shift upwards on the bed with her head resting on soft white pillows. Jesse followed, reaching down to suck on her lower lip. Her hands lightly glided over his back, feeling the small scars left there from when Uncle Jack was having a bad day. He felt her frown beneath his lips as she caressed them gently. He reached behind him and moved her hands away from the scars.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered into her mouth.

"Okay." She focused back on the moment, pushing away her questions into the back of her mind for now. She could barely think anyway when Jesse's hand slid under her dress, tossing it up and over her body and down on to the floor. He stopped kissing her to kneel down and softly nip her neck, slowly moving down to her breasts, and leaving a trail across her flat stomach. Clare shivered under his touch.

"Ticklish?" Jesse smiled.

Clare knocked him in the ribs with her knee as he came back up and kissed her. "No. Bastard." She retaliated and reached down into his pants to grab his growing erection. He tensed, a slight moan escaping his lips.

"Ticklish?" Clare breathed into his ear, her hot breath rolling down his neck, leaving goosebumps. Jesse clashed his lips to hers with a new vigor, his tongue delving into her mouth. He wanted her. But not just her body. He wanted Jane back, in a way that made him feel sick to his stomach. Jesse knew that she was dead and gone, but he felt the need to touch her, regardless.

"Fuck," She moaned as he grinded on top of her. Jesse reached behind her and unclasped her lacy black bra in one swift motion. He felt the soft curve of her back, relishing in the smooth expanse of porcelain skin. "I want you."

Jesse quickly got rid of her panties, and stopped to pause and look at her beautiful body. She was thin, but curvy in all the right places. Her blonde hair fell in waves down her shoulders in an intoxicated cascade. He reached down and squeezed her ass, causing her to moan.

"Please," she breathed. Jesse stripped and leaned down to kiss her. She grabbed his erection and eased him inside of her slowly. They both gasped at the sensation as Jesse started to ease in and out of her. He closed his eyes and reached down to grasp her jaw. It was Jane. Jane's mouth. He kissed her roughly as he went faster. A plethora of moans escaped her lips. He imagined that it was Jane's body intertwining with his. It made him feel sick, but that's what he wanted, what he needed.

"Fuck," Jesse groaned as she begged him to go harder. He obliged. The feeling of being inside her was too much. Her breaths came in pants. He knew she was close. He went even harder and they both climaxed into a sea of pure ecstasy. He pulled out of her and collapsed to the side. He still held her. She breathed hard. Jesse didn't dare to open his eyes. He couldn't take the guilt. She leaned into chest as he wrapped his arms around her. This bliss was warm and enlightening, but it was all for the wrong reasons. Jesse was once again trapped in a paradoxical world of heaven and hell. He kissed the top of her head. Not a word was said on her part, and for that, Jesse was glad.

Two months passed by in a way that made the days and nights blend together into one blissful stream. Beams of light would cascade through the windows of Jesse's bedroom, warming his face into euphoric awakening. Then he'd make breakfast. Sometimes, mostly on the weekends, Clare would pop in to "pick up the rent money," which was their code for an official Badger Hill Welcoming Breakfast. Jesse really enjoyed the weekends.

Today was one particular Saturday morning. Jesse rolled out of bed and showered. When he hopped out, Jesse studied himself in the mirror. He still hadn't cut his hair, and his beard was longer than ever. He was starting to look like a hobo, to be honest. Jesse sighed, and dug through the counter drawers of the bathroom, searching for the electric razor he had bought a few weeks before, but never used. He started trimming his beard, but eventually he took way too much off. It was just stubble now. So of course he had to buzz his hair to even it out. When he finally looked up, the reflection he faced was the old Jesse from Alburquerque. He looked much younger, a lot like his old self. He traced the new scars on his face, trailing a fingertip down his cheek, nose, and lip. Inevitably, Jesse would always have scars to carry, inside and out.

The tantalizing aroma of bacon and eggs wafted up from the kitchen, and soon all of Jesse's musings were strewn away like ash in the wind. He quickly bounded down the stairs to find Clare's back facing him. She was cooking breakfast over the stove. Jesse stood there, admiring the way the sunlight brightened her blonde hair, which was up in a messy bun.

"Hey, Andr- what the fuck?"

"Nice to see you too?" Jesse asked, swiping a hand over his newly shaved hair.

"Oh, sorry, its just… uh," she gulped and started fiddling with a spatula. "You look good."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "Thanks."

"No, like, you look really good, Andrew." She smiled.

"Shut up," he said jokingly. "You need help with that?"

"Nah," she dropped strips of bacon onto two plates, next to a pile of scrambled eggs. "I'm all done. Here-" she hands him a plate and they both sat down side by side at the table together. They eat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each other's company in the early hours of the day. After they were finished, Clare gave him a short, chaste kiss on the lips. They hadn't had sex since their first time, a couple months back. Jesse had told her that it was a spur of the moment thing, and that he needed to take their relationship slow. Clare could see that he was still fighting some inner demons. Hell, she had her fair share of them to battle on her own. Taking it slow was what she needed.

"I'll see you around?" She said as she threw on her coat and grabbed her purse.

"Yeah," Jesse smiled. "See you."

"Bye, Andrew." She ruffled his new head of hair and walked out of the apartment. A little pang of hurt resounded in his chest. Clare didn't even know his real name. Sometimes, when she called his name out to him, it took him a while to react. Just one more thing he would have to get used to with his new life.

After an hour, Jesse was bored. Just plain bored. There was nothing on the TV and nothing to do. He had barely left the house in two months. There was a part of him that was almost scared to leave - to risk being exposed. In fact, Jesse realized that he hadn't even explored the town in which he lived. He shook his head. Stop being a pussy. He quickly grabbed his coat before he could talk himself out of it and hustled out of the apartment. Zipping up his coat, he went down the stairs and left the building, stepping out into the intense sun. The warmth brought by its rays welcomed him. The temperature was warmer than it had been the past few weeks. Perfection. Jesse breathed in deeply, relishing in that fresh Alaskan air.

He immediately went to the nearest clothing store and bought brown hiking boots and a sturdy backpack. Then he bought a couple sandwiches and bottles of water to pack away for lunch. Jesse was stuffing said lunch into his backpack when the cashier eyed him up and down.

"Not from around here, huh?" The older gentleman asked. He was indigenous to Alaska, with darker skin and deep brown eyes.

"No, not really," Jesse said, keeping his eyes trained on his backpack, afraid to make eye contact with him. This old guy didn't really seem like the type to keep up with the times, or even have a television for that matter, but Jesse was still paranoid. Being discovered would ruin him.

"Just be safe out there in the forest," the old man warned. "You never know what's out there."

"Yeah… thanks," Jesse zipped up the backpack and headed out. What a creepy old man. But all of his worries disintegrated when he stepped out of the store. The sky was painted a lovely baby blue, with only a few patches of clouds settled in. He wasn't going to let anything ruin this perfect day. He walked out of town in a matter of minutes. Then he left the sidewalk and headed north into the forest, relishing in the crunch of pine needles under his boots and sweet air in his lungs. Jesse reached out and felt the bark of the native trees as he headed uphill. There was a compass built into one of the straps of his backpack. After a few minutes, he checked it. Still heading north. Good.

When the sun was in the center of the sky, Jesse stopped for lunch. He sat on a fallen tree log and ate his sandwiches and rehydrated with water. He swiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand and looked up far into the tops of the trees. They must be hundreds of years old, with their branches stretching to impossible heights in the sky. In the middle of the forest, surrounded by gracious silence, Jesse closed his eyes and breathed. Just breathed. The aroma of black dirt and pine needles intoxicated his senses. Jesse felt calm. Collected. He leaned back against a nearby tree and closed his eyes. Relishing. In minutes, Jesse dozed, lost to the world in a hazy sea of gentle apathy and content.

A loud gunshot went off in the distance causing Jesse to jump out of his dream state. He frantically searched through the dense forest to find the precise location of where the shot was fired, keeping close to the trees so he wouldn't be spotted. A sound from the left startled Jesse, causing him move forward into that direction. But as he began to walk, a faint screech coming from behind him caused him to turn around. Another shot was fired, causing Jesse's skin to crawl and his body to automatically turn to the sound. Jesse kept his eyes in the distance in front of him, and made sure to keep each step as quiet as possible. Ten minutes later, Jesse found himself being torn to death by the dense forest. As if the forest knew that Jesse was an outsider, each and every branch he came by either whipped him or stabbed him in the eye, goddamnit. Jesse didn't hear another sound except for the innocent twittering of birds, his footsteps, and the creaks of the taunting branches. Fuck this. As Jesse began to turn around to head back, a deep, hillbilly voice hit Jesse's eardrums as if he hasn't heard a human voice for years.

"You lost?"

Jesse turned to find a fairly large man a few feet away wearing a cutoff plaid shirt, blue jeans and a dead raccoon for a hat. He was middle aged, with straggly hair and skin tinted yellow. The man held a shotgun under his right arm with the barrel facing Jesse. The man reached down into his pocket with his left hand and pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette. As he began to light it, Jesse noticed a sharp machete hanging from the man's belt. Jesse could hear a faint voice coming from the left of the man.

"Buck, quit fucking around and help me with this."

Jesse looked through the branches and could faintly see another man wearing nearly identical clothing, sans raccoon hat. He was on his knees with his back turned. Jesse could clearly see he was tying up something.

Then, the man called Buck turned his attention back to Jesse and whistled at him. "Hey, buddy. I asked you a question."

"I...uh…" Jesse couldn't help but keep his eyes on the man on his knees to see what he was doing. The thing he was tying looked too large to be any kind of animal from this part of the forest.

"You hunt? You don't look like a hunter. Cletus, look at this motherfucker." Jesse kept his eyes on Cletus in the dirt. As he turned around, he could see what he was tying up… it was a woman. Fuck.

"I'm sorry…I-"

"Sorry? Don't be!" The man let out a roarous laugh. "Me and Cletus here like some extra company, don't we, Cletus?"

"Buck, he look like he's a lil' scared… We ain't no ghosts, are we?"

Jesse took a step back.

"I...I didn't see anything." Jesse coughed to clear his throat and took another step back.

Cletus secured a knot on the woman and rose from his place in the dirt.

"Shit, Buck we must be ghosts if he hasn't seen anything." Cletus picked up a dainty looking knife from off the ground next to the woman. Jesse held his eyes on her. She wasn't moving.

"Buddy, pal. Come here." He beckoned to Jesse. "Come here. We don't bite."

Jesse watched Cletus walk over and stand next to Buck. He was larger than Buck, with broad shoulders a mean look in his eyes.

"I swear, if you hurt that woman, I'll fucking rip you apart."

"Swear to me, boy. Come here." Buck lifted up his shotgun from underneath his arm to clearly show Jesse that he wasn't fucking around.

"We could use your help."

Jesse took a few more steps back. He hit something solid. A tree. Fuck. He was trapped. Buck's gun stared him straight in the eye.

"Boy, get your fucking ass over here." Buck yelled, while pumping his shotgun. Jesse looked down at his feet. Fuck. Really regret putting on big clunky boots. He didn't have much time. He needed surprise. Abruptly, Jesse ducked around the tree for cover. Buck didn't see it coming at all.

"Kill that motherfucker!" Jesse could hear Cletus shout from behind him. His legs pumped as fast as his strained breath would allow. He needed to put as much distance as he could between him and those crazy fucks. He headed for a denser part of the forest where he wouldn't be seen. Multiple shotgun blasts went off behind Jesse, but he ran into the dense brush of the forest unscathed. Jesse ignored each blast and ran as fast as he could, jumping over logs, boulders, crevices, and darting under branches and toppled trees. Jesse's adrenaline took over. Behind him Jesse could hear a faint voice.

"We'll find you, motherfucker!"

Jesse ran for at least an hour without stopping. His heart pounded incessantly in his chest and his breath came in labored pants. There was no evidence that the two men were chasing him, but he needed to put as much distance between them as possible. He found a nearby cave, hidden by the tree line. Jesse was lucky to find it. He ducked into it, and sat on a flat rock to catch his breath. He swiped sweat from his forehead and drank the rest of water from his backpack. It wouldn't be safe to head back into town in the light of day, so Jesse waited for a few hours until the sun dipped low into the trees and dusk was upon him before he made his move. Jesse retreated from the cave, entering the vast expanse of the woods. He was lost, that was for sure. He hadn't cared what direction he was going while running away from those animals. He checked his compass. He was pointed to face northwest. Okay, so he had ran northwest, therefore, he needed to head southeast. Slowly but surely, Jesse made his way downwards toward town. After an hour, the sun was completely hidden. A blanket of darkness both protected him and screwed him over. Jesse was hidden from the world, but he could barely see ten feet in front of him. Of course he didn't think to bring a flashlight on his way up. All he had was the ominous gray light of the moon to light the path. Jesse trekked on, constantly referring to the compass to keep him on course.

After two hours, Jesse finally broke through the tree line and entered Badger Hill. The town was asleep, as it always was at this hour of the night. Jesse slipped around corners and stayed close to the buildings. He didn't dare expose himself on the sidewalk, just in case those lunatics were out and about. This town seemed to be growing crazier and crazier by the minute. The first person Jesse meets is a junkie. She's clean now, supposedly, because of him, but still… Jesse had his doubts. Then, as soon as he stepped out of his house, he runs into the town serial killers. He shook his head and sighed, resting on a brick wall. He wasn't too far from his apartment now. Begrudgingly, Jesse rolled off of the wall and continued his trek, keeping close to the darkness that had become his new friend. When Jesse finally reached his building, he rushed to the door, went through, and bolted upstairs to his apartment. He locked the door, twice, for good measure and breathed a sigh of relief.

Jesse knew what he had to do. This town was crazy, not the safe haven he wanted it to be. He immediately started packing up his clothes and money. He had no choice - no choice but to leave and start over. Again.

When Jesse's hand hit the doorknob, he stopped. What would Clare think of him leaving without saying goodbye? He had to see her, at least one more time. Maybe if he begged, she would even leave with him. He could keep her clean. Get her out of this fucking town. She may not really be his lover, but she was his friend. With new resolve, Jesse opened the door and left, letting the door crash against the frame on his way down. He hefted his backpack across his shoulders. It was much heavier now with nearly ninety nine thousand dollars of cash settled there.

He abandoned the building, leaving it all behind him. He headed up the sidewalk. Time was of the essence. Jesse didn't have time to hide in the shadows, so he quickened his pace. Luckily, Clare's place was located just up the road, in an old apartment complex that her dad used to own. She had shown him her apartment a few weeks ago, when Jesse had demanded to do a drug search. Clare hadn't been looking well that day, her skin pale and her eyes bright with longing. Jesse had guessed that she used again. But when her place turned up clean, he had no choice but to drop the matter. But at least he got one good thing from that encounter. He knew where she lived. She was the only resident in the entire building, perfect for Jesse's commitment to secrecy. He entered the building and went down the hall to the first door on the left. He pounded profusely.

"Clare? Clare, it's Je-Andrew. Can you open up? We need to talk. Clare?" Jesse laid his forehead on the door hoping to hear her voice. Nothing. Jesse grasped the doorknob and attempted to open it, but it was locked tight. Jesse pounded on the door again. "I know you're in there, Clare. Where else would you be?" He quietly pressed his ear up to the door, hoping to pick up a sound. After a few seconds, he heard some shuffling on the inside. Feet moving. Not a word was uttered. Jesse didn't have time for this, godammit. He stepped back and paused for a brief moment. Should he do this? Fuck it. He lifted his leg and threw himself forward, putting all his weight on the door. He kicked it down, and the knob ripped from its nails and the door was sent flying into the adjacent wall.

Several curses were heard.

"Fuck!"

"Shit-"

Jesse entered the room. Clare was laying on the couch, a needle halfway up her arm and a finger resting on the trigger. Her eyes were tweaked out, darting back and forth between Jesse and the two men that stood by her. One of them grabbed a gun from his belt and pointed it at Jesse, who dropped his backpack in astonishment.

"Clare?" He approached her. The man closest to him cocked his gun, pointing the barrel at his heart.

"Vin, don't…" Clare slurred. "He's cool. A friend…"

Vin glared at Jesse before putting the gun back into the hidden confines of his belt. "This fuckin' loser is friends with you?"

"Yeah, unfortunately," the second man spoke up. Jesse looked at him closer. It was Gray, her drug dealer. Christ. "Not really a friend, though. Just a hook up, from what I've seen…"

"You fucker," Jesse narrowed his eyes at him. "You did this to her."

"Calm down, little tike. I'm just showing Clare a good time, man." Gray chuckled and made eyes at Vin, who smiled as well. Jesse felt like a hole had been punched through his chest. Clare was using again. She didn't care. He felt the absolute urge to leave the apartment, but something grounded him there.

"Clare," Jesse sat down on the couch. Her head rolled so she could stare at him.

"Yeah?" She smiled.

"Why are you doing this to yourself?"

She simply shrugged her shoulders, as if she didn't have a care in the world.

"I like it."

"You like it?"

"I love it…" She injected the rest of the meth into her arm while he watched her pupils dilate. Clare sighed as the drug danced in her veins, making her feel emotions she had never dreamed of, sensations she could never conjure with a sober mind. "Common, Jesse. You know you want to."

"Fuck this," Jesse rose from the couch. He walked over to the backpack and unzipped it. He approached her again. He dug his hand in, coming up with a handful of cash. "This is what you want, huh? Money for a fix. Here," He threw it at Clare, who was barely sober enough to cover her eyes with a track-marked arm. "You want it? Take it. I don't fucking care." Jesse continued to toss the money at her.

"You don't understand, Andrew!" Clare started to cry. "I need this."

"Well you apparently need this more than you need me. So here-" He dumped all of the money onto the ground. "It's yours."

He turned and walked away. Vin and Gray stared him down as he did so. They would try to take some of the cash from her, surely, but Jesse didn't have the motivation to do anything about it. Fuck it. Clare had her chance with him. She ruined it the moment she stuck that needle back into her arm. He couldn't go through this again. It's over. Done. He sauntered out of her apartment.

"Andrew!" Clare suddenly stood shaking in the hallway. She shut the door behind her. It was just him and her. He continued walking in spite of her plea, heading down the hallway. "Don't leave like this. Please. I like you."

"But you love the meth, right?" He stopped in his tracks to turn and glare at her, a certain fire in his eyes that is hard to replicate. "Go back and enjoy your high. I'm not going to be a part of it."

"Please," She grabbed his hand. Her fingers trembled. "Don't-"

"Goodbye, Clare."

He seized his hand out of her shaking grasp and burst through the exit. He could hear her sobs from the inside. They echoed in the empty halls. He rubbed his face with his hand, which came back wet. No way in hell he was crying right now. No way. He continued down the road. He had just a couple hundred in his pocket. That was enough for a ferry ride off this godforsaken state. It was enough.

As Jesse walked down the sidewalk, he realized that the hole in his chest was not mended with his dramatic exertion. It lay there, permanent and profound. The moon lit his way, but it did not seem bright enough. He stared at the cracks in the sidewalk, trying to beat out the incessant pounding in his head. A voice. _His_ voice. It wouldn't leave him alone.

_I could have saved her. But I didn't._

_I could have saved her. But I didn't._


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_6 Years Earlier_

Badger Hill awakened on a particularly chilly afternoon. The town was alive with energy. Dozen of people walked up and down the sidewalk, running errands, talking, laughing, and enjoying each other's company despite the bitter chill in the air. The gray, desolate clouds did nothing to deter the town's liveliness. A few blocks up from the bustling center of town, Clare soaked in the shower in the dark confines of her apartment. She has just awakened and started to get ready for her day. She lathered up her hair with her favorite strawberry soap and relished in the hot streams cascading down her body. When she opened her eyes, a hand creeped up and pulled back the curtains with violent force.

"What the fuck!" Clare quickly covered her breasts with her left arm and held up a shampoo bottle as a makeshift weapon in her right, prepared for an attack. Her older sister stood there, giggling like a little fool. "Dammit, Kathy! You scared the shit out of me. I feel like that chick from Psycho." Clare uncovered herself and swiftly shut the curtains.

"Nice tits, Clare. You definitely took mom's side of the family. Unfortunately, I got Dad's breasts." Kathy jumped onto the sink counter.

"Yeah, we all can't be as well-endowed as me." Clare laughed lightly as she turned off the water and grabbed a towel.

"Fuck it. I have a bigger ass anyways. If I had both, I'd have the personality of a rock, right?" Kathy sighed and hopped down to approach her sister. "So, you're coming to that party tonight, right? I know like ten guys who would totally sleep with you that are going to be there… and from what I know, they are all totally packing some heat if you know what I'm saying." Kathy held up her two hands and measured about ten inches in the air, winking as she did so.

"Ew, no," Clare grimaced as she dried her body off and then wrapped her hair up in another towel. "Besides, I have a date." Her lips curled up at the edges.

"You whore."

"What?"

"Don't fucking tell me… Gray?"

"Maybe," Clare nudged Kathy with her elbow.

"Clare, I know everyone in this town, but I barely know anything about Gray." Kathy stood behind Clare in the mirror as she started to curl her eyelashes and apply mascara.

"You don't know him like I do. He's sweet." Clare smiled once more.

"Clare, you need to understand what I'm trying to tell you. I've heard some things about Gray… he's different."

"Like what?" Clare rolled her eyes and started searching for her date night lipstick.

"I don't know. Like, I heard that he spends a lot of time alone… in his apartment… like, by himself… doing stuff."

"What stuff?" Clare stopped suddenly and glanced up in the mirror at her sister.

"I don't know… probably something illegal."

"Kathy, when's the last time you did anything _legal_?" Clare rolled her eyes again and resumed her routine.

"Shut up. I know people, and they see stuff. Trust me. Gray… he's a weirdo."

"Kath, please. You always do this. Right when I find a new guy, you try to get me to not date him. I like Gray, and I need you to let me like him, okay?"

"Ugh, alright. I just want you to be safe, baby sister," Kathy patted Clare on the head, "and if you change your mind, I'll be partying with a bottle of scotch in one hand and a cock in the other. You're always welcome to join me."

"Yuck, Kath. Seriously. And remember to knock next time!" She yelled as Kathy exited the bathroom.

An hour later, Clare received a knock on her apartment door. She had just turned eighteen a few weeks earlier, and her dad let her move out into the family's abandoned complex. He wanted her to "gain some independence," or something like that. Clare didn't care. All she knew was that she got to live on her own, and the rent was cheap.

"Come in!" Clare shouted towards the door from the bathroom. She was still applying makeup - a finishing touch of dark red lipstick.

"Clare?" Gray walked into her apartment, barely able to get his broad shoulders through the thin doorframe. He started taking a good look around.

"I'll be out in a minute. I'm still getting ready. Make yourself at home."

"Okay, cool." Gray took off his shoes and strode over to take a seat on her couch. After a few minutes, he grew tired of sitting. Gray's eyes scanned a few pictures hanging on the wall, so he walked over to take a look.

Clare left the bathroom, looking gorgeous as ever, just as Gray stopped in front of a wall of pictures. She noticed Gray's clothing choice, and, well… she felt a bit overdressed. He didn't look bad, he was very attractive, with smooth dark skin and brown eyes and hair, but seriously- who wears blue jeans on a first date? She shook off her disappointment and approached him, regardless, staring at the same picture he had his eyes on.

"That's me and my dad… and that one is my dad and my mom," She pointed to another picture, "and that one is me and my sister, Kathy."

Gray stared at the picture of Clare and Kathy a little longer than he did with the others.

"She was here earlier. You just missed her, actually." Clare added, "Thank God," under her breath. "So are you ready to go?" Clare looked at her date as he idolized the photo. "Gray?"

"What? Um… yeah, are you ready?"

Clare smiled and gave him a what do you think kind of look.

"I guess that's a yes," Gray smirked. He had very white teeth, filed in neat rows without having braces. What was unsettling though, were his canines. The tips of them were filed to slight points. If Clare could recall, that was a sign of one of the gangs in the southern tip of Alaska. Once again, she shook off her doubts. They must be natural points. He's never had work done on them, she was certain. His family didn't have any money.

"Well, let's go already." Grey grabbed her hand and led her out the apartment.

"Where are we going?" Clare leaned in closer to him.

"Depends. Are you hungry? I reserved a table for two at Tino's."

"That's fine with me," Clare took a hold of Gray's muscular arm.

"Good. I've got a little surprise for you, afterwards." Gray and Clare smiled at each other as they walked out of the door into the crisp night air. Clare's was full-hearted and lovely. His teeth glared.

Clare and Gray took their time walking to the restaurant. The air snapped at their skin but they stood close to keep warm. Since Clare was still fairly new to this part of town. Her family had moved to Badger Hill a few months ago to take advantage of the cheap real estate. Gray became her personal tour guide to the surrounding buildings. Every word Gray spewed out of his beautiful mouth left Clare just a little more fascinated. Clare tried her best not to look too obvious that she was clearly attracted to him, but she couldn't help blushing, and squeezing his arm just a little tighter after each laugh they shared together. She enjoyed his company, but most of all, she enjoyed him. His laugh, his smell, the way his arm slid around her shoulders in that way. The young woman couldn't help but ponder on what her sister would think about Gray. What if Gray actually is different than what he seemed? What if he is hiding something behind that bright smile?

She had her experiences with past relationships, like her first boyfriend, Keith. Throughout sophomore year, Clare and Keith were the perfect couple, until she found out mid junior year that Keith liked to spend extra time in the boy's showers after football practice. Keith said he was "going through a phase", but Clare had the rough end of watching her so called boyfriend become more interested in another limb that didn't involve breasts and long legs. After their teary breakup, Clare survived junior year with utter embarrassment, but was able to shrug it off by the summer.

Clare met her second boyfriend, Chris, at the beginning of senior year. He was a 4.0 student, obeyed the rules, and had his life in order. He was perfect for her. Clare and Chris spent senior year together happily. They became a power couple. The smartest, cutest senior in their class with the kindest, prettiest one. They walked the halls together without anyone ever judging their relationship. Clare and Chris loved making out when her parents weren't home, but Clare remembered how uncomfortable Chris became when she starting getting touchy with him in public, or even when they were alone. Clare just thought he was a little nervous when it came to sex, which she understood. She was a virgin, too. After the senior prom, Chris took Clare to his truck and asked if she was ready to take the next step in their relationship.

For high school relationships, the "next step" is usually just sex, in which Clare was totally ready for. In the middle of foreplay, with hands everywhere and fingers where her mother said they shouldn't be, Clare remembered Chris asking her if she would be okay after hearing his "personal secret." She just thought Chris was a little self-cautious if he was on the smaller side, until Clare reached into his pants to find nothing but her similar genetalia. That's when Chris explained that his real name was Christina. That really tore Clare apart, causing her to avoid trusting relationships for a while. But, throughout those relationships, Clare specifically remembered Kathy spewing out nonsense to get her to understand that both Keith and Chris-well, Christina- were actually hiding something from her. Her sister had a sixth sense with those kinds of things. If Gray was truly hiding something from her, she would find out sooner or later, but, until then, Clare just wanted to enjoy herself. She wrapped her arm around his tighter.

Clare and Gray arrived at the restaurant and he was nice enough to hold the door open for her, which was slightly surprising. A few feet away, a host stood waiting. As Clare and Gray approached him, he looked up and gave them a big, toothy smile.

"Reservations?" The host asked as he pulled out a clipboard holding sheets of paper filled with the names of the usual customers.

"Gray Cooper… Cooper with a C." Gray looked down at Clare and smiled.

"Right this way, Mr. Cooper," The host said in an Italian accent, even though he was whiter than Bill Clinton. "The special tonight is our Capellini Pescatore, a lobster tail dish with a side of shrimp and clams sauteed with fresh tomatoes and olives." The host gushed while laying the silverware and menus in front of the couple. "And what to drink?"

"Water is fine for me," Clare glanced from her menu up at her date. "Gray?"

"Gin and tonic. Dry." He slapped the menu down. "And we're ready to order as well. I'll have the special, but make sure it's sauteed to a crisp. No tomatoes. Hate the damn things. And the lady will have a chicken salad with vinegar."

"May I see your ID, for the gin and tonic?" The host asked.

Gray glared at him and rolled his eyes. "Sure, whatever. Go for it." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his ID before handing it to the host. The man looked at it carefully before handing it back to him.

"I'll be right back with your drinks, sir." He nodded to Clare politely and then left.

After a brief pause, Clare spoke up. "I thought you were nineteen, Gray?"

"I am," he rolled his eyes at her playfully. "It's not that hard to get a fake, you know…"

"Oh," Clare looked down in her lap, twiddling her fingers.

The night passed by smoothly. Gray was an expert at holding a conversation. She liked talking with him. A lot. He made her feel comfortable and warm. After dinner, Gray asked for the check and then rose from the table. He handed Clare her coat.

"Why don't you head outside? I have to go to the bathroom quick and pay the check."

"Sure," Clare smiled. "Thanks for dinner."

"No problem, baby," he winked at her. "Now, scram."

She giggled and nudged his arm before heading outside. Gray smiled when she exited. He loved watching her leave. The host handed Gray his check. He looked at the three digits and scoffed. He sat the check down on the table, and then headed for the bathroom. Once inside, he looked around for a window. Yup, there it was. He pressed on the sill, and with a little brute strength, it gave way. He slipped out of the window and into the night air with his belly full along with his wallet. He came around the building to find Clare standing on the front steps, shivering in the cold.

"'Common, let's go," Gray grabbed her hand. "I still got that surprise for you. You're gonna love it."

"Okay," Clare smiled, but furrowed her brows in questioning. "Why didn't you come out of the front door?"

"They had a back door. It was faster." Gray's lips curled up. "And I just couldn't wait to see you again."

"Oh, shush," Clare blushed as Gray wrapped his muscular arm around her shoulders, keeping her warm.

"Just wait till you see my surprise. We need to head back to your place."

"My place?"

"Yeah," he grinned. "I've had it in my pocket this whole time."

"Okay…" Clare's stomach fluttered with both excitement and nervousness.

They headed back to her apartment quickly, partially from the cold, but mostly because Gray just diverted a dine-and-dash fiasco. When they entered the apartment, Gray grabbed Clare's shoulders and pressed her against the wall roughly.

"Gray, what are you-"

His lips silenced her. His large hands palmed her body everywhere they could touch. Over her breasts, up her smooth legs, down her arms. He loved her arms. They were a blank canvas, just perfect for a little recreational demolishing.

"You wanna see my surprise, baby?" He asked.

Clare tried to push him back. This was only their first date, after all, and she wasn't that kind of woman. But she really did like him. His smile. His comforting nature. After a few seconds of deliberation, she nodded. She just couldn't resist that smile.

"Sure, um, I guess?"

"Don't sound so down, baby," he sucked on her neck hard before whispering in her ear, "you're gonna love this." He pulled away from her, and reached into his pocket. The apartment was dark, but the shades were pulled back, allowing the light of the moon to grace them both. He reached into his jacket and presented to her a clear needle that glowed in the dazzling lunar light.

"What is that?"

"It's my new stuff, Clare Bear." He leaned in close and nipped at her earlobe, causing her to gasp. He smelled her hair and pulled on it lightly so her head tipped up to look him straight in the eye. "You're gonna try it. And you're gonna fall in love with it. I'm gonna take you to the moon."

"Okay…" Clare said. After all, Kathy was always trying to push her to do new things. Whatever this was, it was an adventure waiting to happen. She wanted to be a part of it. Badger Hill was a boring place for a woman her age, on the brink of adulthood but still retaining the rebellious teenage psyche. "Let's do it."

Gray led her to the couch, and told her to take off her coat. She obliged, letting it fall to the floor. Her arms were bare and untainted, a sight that Gray relished. He couldn't wait to see her arms spotted with marks. Her sister's too. The girls were as good as his. He filled the needle with that sick addiction and made her flex her arm to find a lovely blue vein.

"It's going to hurt for just a second, and then you're gonna be on a sweet, sweet ride, baby." He murmured into her ear, causing her to shiver. He plunged the needle into her arm. She cried out, but only for a moment. He filled her veins with that sweet liquid and her head fell back in an all-consuming inferno of ecstasy.

Before she realized, Gray also stabbed the same needle into his arm, treating his senses to the rich sensation. Both of their heads rolled with the high. She was swimming. No, she was drowning in this. All of it. Emotions filled her head that were hard to put into words. Impossible. She lounged there on the couch, all of her ambition gone, but Gray's was fueled into an all new zone. He leaned into her, smelling her hair. His hand moved slowly up and down her bare arm, leaving goosebumps. His lips whispered sweet nothings into her ear. She barely heard him, she was too trapped inside her mind. But then he started undressing her. Fast. Quickly. She barely even knew. He ripped her blouse open and hiked up the skirt she only wore on special occasions. She was laying on the couch in just her bra. He leaned down and sucked her breasts, then bit them, hard, leaving a trail of blood to roll down her abdomen. Tears filled Clare's eyes. She tried hitting him, begging him to stop, but her arms felt like lead. She tried to kick him, but his body was between her legs, prohibiting any kind of jab. He ignored her efforts completely. Clare's heart nearly stopped when she felt his growing erection through his fucking blue jeans. Gray unzipped his pants, slowly, torturing her with the sound of each tooth coming undone like the neurological paths of her brain. She was sobbing uncontrollably now. This couldn't be happening. She knew Gray. She knew him. His pants were at his knees now. He teased her leg with his hard erection, slapping it against her, making her cringe, before plunging into her without warning. She cried out. No amount of a drug readied her for this amount of pain. He eased out of her all the way and then went in again even more harshly. Over and over and over. She couldn't take it. She begged him to stop, but he wouldn't. In fact, he got off on her refusal, her begging, and used it to feed his fire. She was his, and that was that.

He had her now, and there was no escape.

Clare woke up on the couch with Gray's arm draped over her naked body. Her head hurt like hell, among many other things. She sat up slightly, blinking away the stubborn remnants of sleep. She slipped out from under Gray's limp arm. Clare was so shocked by last night's events that she could barely think. In a daze, she walked over to the bathroom and turned on the water to the hottest level. She drew a bath, and then slipped into the scalding water. Her eyelids drooped as she sank into the depths. The warmth helped her body with the aches and bruises. She washed her hair, slowly, lovingly. She had to love herself, now. She splashed her face with water. Once, twice, again. When Clare looked down, she noticed that the water was dyed a light pink with her blood left over from Gray's actions. New tears welled up in her eyes but she did not let them fall.

"I brought this on myself…" she whispered, staring down at the purple, perfectly spherical bruise in the crook of her elbow. Her first track mark. She would never forget it. "I did this."

"Clare?" His voice echoed in the bathroom. She flinched, but forbid herself to look up towards the sound he made. She couldn't bear to.

"What?"

"You got any food? I'm starving."

"There's cereal in the cabinet. Above the sink." She said, staring at her toes. How could he speak to her so nonchalantly after what he did last night? Clare almost had a mind to call the police, but if she did, she would have to tell them the whole story. She was absolutely humiliated, with nobody to turn to. Not even her sister. Her sister would be the last to know.

"Okay, cool." He started to turn and walk out, but he stopped. "Sorry if I was too rough with you last night. It was the drug, man. I got carried away."

"Sure. No problem," Clare shrugged her shoulders. "It happens."

"Cool," Gray winked at her. "We'll do this again sometime."

Clare settled her head on her knees and wrapped her arms around her legs, refusing to answer. She subconsciously circled the little purple bruise in the crook of her elbow. Little did she know, the craving for that sweet, sweet drug would reside in her body and force her to do terrible things. That monster lived inside her now, and it wouldn't let her go.

Years passed. Each day Clare grew more and more addicted to methamphetamine. Gray was always there to give her a dose. Always. She had to start borrowing money from her father to pay for her addiction. After a while, the funds were cut. Her father refused to give her charity, telling her that she had to make her own living. Clare was out of options. If she didn't get her fix, she started having withdrawals. They forced her into a hell that she never experienced before. An opposite of the high she was now in love with. If she didn't have the money for a dose, then Gray would force her to have sex. It was that simple. He never flat out told her that, but it was definitely implied. But, after five years, Gray grew tired of her, and asked to get her sister hooked on it, too. She couldn't refuse. The drug was too good. It consumed her brain and the Clare that she used to be. She invited her sister over to her apartment the next day. She presented a needle to her. Clare didn't have time for euphemisms or paradoxes. She told her, short and sweet.

"Try it."

"What?"

"Just try it, Kath."

"What are you talking about?" Her sister looked at her with disbelief. They were laying on the couch on a bitter Sunday morning. Kathy held a warm coffee cup in her hand, while her sister grasped a dirty needle.

"You wouldn't believe how it feels. Like you're the life of your own party."

"I don't know, Clare…" She glanced at the needle. The needle glared back. "I've smoked pot before -haven't we all- but this just seems too intense…"

"You scared?"

"A little."

"Don't be, big sister," She smiled. "I've been using it for a long time, now. Never been happier." Clare almost felt regret in her heart for getting her sister hooked on her addiction. But she couldn't deny Gray. He had a power over her that nobody could understand.

Kathy looked at her sister straight in the eyes. They were bright and alive. She wanted to feel that way. Bright and alive. Kathy liked to party. She partied so much that the scene was starting to become dull to her. She needed a new getaway. Badger Hill was, afterall, a horrible place for a woman her age.

"Okay," Kathy resided. "Just do it. Stick it in me. It'll be fun, right?"

"Yeah," her sister grinned. "So much fun."

She slowly injected the needle into her sister's arm. Kathy flinched, but didn't utter a word. She was tough like that. Suddenly, her head spun, and she was thrown into an overpowering abyss of bliss.

"Wow…" Kathy breathed.

"Yeah," Clare smiled. "I know."

Before long, the two sisters were in way over their heads. They ran out of money for their rich fixes. The addiction had been going on for quite some time now. Six years. They shot up together, usually in Clare's apartment. Gray would be there most of the time, along with his right-hand dealers. Always there, like a sick guardian angel. Her sister was in debt. Way in debt. Kathy had lost count of the fixes she bummed from Cletus, one of Gray's dealers. She bat her eyelashes and provoked with her body in a way that men like and dislike to be provoked. It was later that night when they took Kathy away.

_Present Day_

On that one particular afternoon, Kathy was picking out a present for her little sister in the only jewelry store not owned by her family when Cletus came up to her from behind.

"We need to talk. Get outside." His breath reeked of booze. She couldn't refuse him. Not if he was offering her a free fix. They stepped out of the store together and into a nearby alley, away from the prying eyes of small-town Badger Hill citizens.

"Do you have any idea how much money you owe me, huh? We've been through this before. I need my money. Gray's been on my ass about it since last month."

"I'm sorry about that, Cletus." Kathy sighed. "I just don't have a lot of my own money right now. Our dad cut us off from it. I have a little cash on me, but it's Clare's birthday today, so I can't-"

"Shut up," Cletus gave her a menacing look before looking her up and down. " I don't want to hear about your bullshit. Gray is very unhappy with you. He's a businessman, so stop fuckin' around, got it? He can't just keep giving out charity to his little whore."

"I realize that, but-"

He forced a hand over her mouth and pushed her into the building wall. "Now you listen here, girl," he leaned in extremely close. His rank breath hit her ear. "If you can't come up with the cash… maybe you can give Gray somethin' else." Cletus stuck out his tongue slowly and made disgusting slurping noises.

"Are you serious?"

"That's his price." Cletus leaned back to give her his most malicious smile. His teeth were rotten and brown.

"What if I refuse?"

"You don't wanna know, darlin'." He winked at her before striding away, hands in his pockets and a whistle seeping through his teeth. Kathy wrapped her arms around her torso, shivering from either the cold or Gray's proposal, she didn't know.

Kathy spent the remainder of the day with Clare and their parents, trying to forget about Gray and his dealer. They had thrown a nice dinner party in the family's second estate up in the mountains. Clare had loved the present she gave her: gold pearl earrings that gleamed in the light. Kathy had a sense, with the way her sister smiled when she put them on, that she wasn't doing very well financially. Her eyes were frantic and her fingers shook as she tried to stick the earring in her ear. Clare probably hadn't had a fix a few days, maybe more.

"Oh… Kath, You didn't have to."

"Yeah, but I wanted to." She gave her sister a hug. The party ended a few hours later. The girls said their goodbyes to their parents and thanked them for the party. The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon, bathing the Alaskan mountains into subdued hues of orange and pink. Clare walked over to her car and opened the door.

"Need a lift back into town?" She asked.

"No," Kathy murmured. She wanted to take as much time back as possible. She knew that Gray would probably be lurking in her own apartment when she returned. "I think I'm gonna take a walk."

"You sure? That's at least an hour hike, Kath."

"Yeah. I'm sure," Kathy gave her sister her best fake smile. "I need the exercise after those enchiladas Mom made."

Clare laughed, filling the mountains with the echo of her blissful naivete. "Who knew that Mom was such a cheese enthusiast?" She slid into the driver's seat and shut the door before rolling down the window. "Call me when you get into town, okay? You can get lost in these woods."

"We grew up in these woods, Clare."

"I know. But just in case. It's getting dark."

"Sure, sure," Kathy waved off her sister. "Just leave before I change my mind and take the easy way down."

Clare nodded and revved the engine. She backed out of the estate's long circular driveway and headed down, honking the horn as she did so. Kathy sighed, and started making her way down the mountain as well. She zipped up her coat and threw the hood over her head to protect her from the biting wind. With her hands in her pockets, she starting trekking through the dense brush and into the fading twilight.

It took Kathy longer than expected to reach town. The sun had set completely, cloaking the girl in absolute darkness. She used the flashlight mechanism on her phone to light a path. She was just a mile or so from Badger Hill when a snapping noise caused pause. Kathy stopped in her tracks and listened for the source. Nothing. She slowly continued down the hill. Probably a few more hundred steps and she would reach the town's main road. Then she would be forced to go home and try to avoid Gray as much as possible. There was no way she would have sex with him. He was attractive, sure, but his personality made Kathy want to vomit. He was always treating her sister like shit but neither of them could do anything about it. He was the source of their addiction. Their hands were tied.

The main road was just coming into view when Kathy felt a gloved hand wrap around her mouth. Her heart stopped as she was thrown into the side of a tree. The bark scraped her back as two large hands forced her down. She didn't even have time to scream when a she was hit hard across the head. She slipped into the blank void of unconsciousness.

Kathy jolted awake to the sound of a gun shot being fired. The sound echoed throughout the hills with youthful exuberance. The sun had risen and its hot rays hit her eyes with blinding brightness. She tried to get up, but her hands and feet were tied together tightly.

"What the fuck did you do that for, Buck?"

"I saw a bird."

Kathy blinked, trying to make sense of her surroundings. She stirred, raising her head from the ground.

"Hey, Buck, she's waking up!"

"So? She's tied up good. She ain't goin' nowhere." The man named Buck laughed. "You're one stupid sonovabitch, Cletus."

"I was just sayin'..." Cletus murmured as he bent over Kathy. "When did Gray want to pick her up? We've been here all night."

"He had to make an emergency run up to Juneau, you know that. Could be a little while."

"Why did we have to camp up all the way out here, though?"

"Cletus, you really are stupid. Where are we gonna keep her in a dinky town that nobody would know about? Please."

"But I'm cold, Buck."

"But nothin'-" Buck paused. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"I heard footsteps."

"You talkin' crazy, man."

"I'm gonna go check it out. You make sure her knots are tight. Her gag, too. Can't risk her screamin'," Buck edged closer into the woods, loading his shotgun. He came around a bend in the trees and saw a young man with a buzzed head and small scars on his face frantically running around the woods. He approached the man and raised his barrel to meet his blue eyes.

"You lost?"

"I… uh…"

Buck cocked his gun. After many moments of awkward "um's" and apologies, Buck grew tired of messing with the stranger. He realized that the kid had seen too much. He had backed him up into a tree. The kill was his. But while he was too busy feeling full of himself, the kid shot out behind the tree and ran.

Buck heard his brother shout, "Kill that motherfucker!" so he raised his gun, searching for the kid. He was already gone, hiding in the trees no doubt. Buck cursed, firing his gun into the air.

"We'll kill you, motherfucker!"


End file.
